Bored Genius 2
by jinx777
Summary: He was a genius, the most gifted mind since Nicholas Flammel. Unfortunately Harry Potter is also not exactly 'all there'. He is rude, unmotivated and doesn't give a crap who knows it. Can Hogwarts change this, or will he get bored of magic too. After all, 'if everything comes easy, everything is boring'.
1. Bored

**Hey, so before people start hunting me down for doing this again, let me explain.**

 **When I started Bored Genius I didn't really take as much time as I should have before writing and posting those first chapters. Since then I have, and it has given me ideas on how to make it better. I simply can't keep writing a fic when I know I could have done something better, it just eats away in the back of my mind until I lose all will to keep writing it.**

 **So here we are.**

 **Not a lot is different in the first part of this chapter, but I have gone through and touched it up where possible. There are however a few minor things different and it ends sooner than the last chapter, so I recommend reading it just to be sure for people that read the original.**

 **A few things for people that didn't read the original.**

 **Neville and Hermione will eventually be Harry's friends in this fic. Neville will be sort of like his conscience, and Hermione will be to one to make him focus. I am telling you this so that I don't get people bitching to me about it later, if you don't like it don't bloody read it. I am getting tired of people complaining about not liking a certain character. I. DON'T. CARE!**

 **Sorry, just needed to get that off my chest.**

 **Anyway I don't want to keep you reading this long Arse AN any longer, so I will let you get to the first chapter :)**

 **Enjoy:)**

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 **Summary:** He was a genius, the most gifted mind since Nicholas Flammel. Unfortunately Harry Potter is also not exactly 'all there'. He is rude, unmotivated and doesn't give a crap who knows it. Can Hogwarts change this, or will he get bored of magic too. After all, 'if everything comes easy, everything is boring'.

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 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing :(

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 **Beta:** alexis. metoyer. 1

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Chapter 1- Bored

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Harry frowned in slight annoyance as the light bulb in the old lamp on his desk flickered, tilting his book slightly in an attempt to catch what little light he could. The book itself was on 'Advanced Genetics', a subject he had taken a passing interest in over the past few days along with Physics, Chemistry, and Behavioral Psychology.

Now, most people would think so many advanced and complicated subjects would be hard for anyone to understand, and Harry supposed for normal people it would be. But Harry wasn't normal, a fact his…relatives, often enjoyed pointing out to him.

At ten, almost eleven years old, Harry not only understood these subjects- along with any others he found interesting- but excelled at them. His primary school teachers had called him a genius, though at that time he had been four. After only one year with them, he had started skipping multiple years at a time.

Presently, Harry's schooling was complete and he was now looking into university courses. His Aunt and Uncle would never pay for him to go, of course, but that was what scholarships were for. It's not like they would actively try and stop him from leaving their home.

When he was younger, Harry had lived in the cupboard under the stairs. It wasn't until his intelligence and performance in school started attracting attention that they had been forced to move him to the small spare room. Idiots they may be, but even Vernon Dursley knew he wouldn't be able to explain away why he was locking Harry in a small cupboard.

The room itself was barely habitable, with mold growing on the walls behind the peeling grey wallpaper, and the wooden floorboards loose and rotting in many places. He had a rickety old bed that Harry theorized would collapse in on itself any day now, and the desk he was currently sitting at had a stack of books instead of a fourth leg.

In fact, there were piles of books covering most of the free space in the room- many stacked taller than Harry himself. They were all different, as well: from Language and Geography, to Chemistry and Mathematics. What is most surprising is that Harry has read every single one.

The fact is, for most of his life Harry has always been, for lack of a better word, bored. Everything was boring to him because everything was easy to understand.

The only things he didn't understand were the odd events that sometimes happened around him as he was growing up.

His teacher's hair changing to bright neon pink in the middle of a lesson after shouting at him for falling asleep was, while amusing, not normal. There were other things, too, like his Uncle breaking his hand once when he tried to "beat the Freak out of him"; or the time Ripper, his Aunt Marg's bulldog, lost the ability to bark after chasing Harry up a tree.

On top of that, just the other day Harry discovered after a trip to the zoo that he could speak to snakes. Then right after that, the glass from the front of the cage disappeared and said snake escaped. The fact that it had scared his whale of a cousin on the way had been amusing while it lasted, though the novelty had worn off quickly. Harry had spent years searching for any leads he could find, any mention of an explanation. But no matter where he looked or what subject he learned to find an answer, none ever came.

But that was why he found it so interesting, the fact that he didn't understand it. All he had been able to understand was that he was the common denominator. He was the thing that connected all of the strange events together. Harry also didn't miss his Aunt and Uncle's reactions when these things happened, though his Uncle turning purple in rage was hard to miss anyway. They clearly knew something and hated him for it.

Logically, this made him assume that his parents had something to do with it, or that they were the same as him, seeing as his living relatives definitely weren't. He could ask, but he knew there would be no point; they wouldn't tell him anything. The only reason his Uncle had stopped beating him was because of the time he broke his hand. They seemed to fear it would happen again, so instead they stuck with insults and ignoring him for days at a time.

He sometimes contemplated telling someone about the abuse, but in the end just never saw the point. If people didn't notice the clear signs then why should he try and point it out to them? There were people paid to notice and fix things like that, and he wasn't one of them. Though Harry also wondered if they were paid too much because they clearly didn't know how to do their jobs.

It was actually just over a week before Harry turned eleven, not that he celebrated his birthday or understood why other people did. It just seemed like a waste of time and money to him, though Harry would admit to himself he wasn't exactly 'sociable'. For all his genius, Harry could never understand people in general.

His thoughts were cut off by the sound of loud banging on his door, and with a sigh Harry put his current book down and made his way to the door. He was met with the frowning face of his aunt glaring from the other side of the door.

"Get up! If you want breakfast there is some cold toast in the kitchen for you. You can grab the post while you're at it and bring it through,"said his Aunt in a haughty voice, her nose in the air.

Harry simply gave her a bored look, "Get it yourself. It's on the way downstairs anyway."

"Do what I tell you boy! You should be grateful you're still allowed in this house, you ungrateful little freak!" Petunia practically screamed at him. Frowning slightly, he used his little finger to try and clear the ringing in his ear from the shrill voice of his Aunt.

Harry looked her in the eyes and flipped her the bird while drawling in the same bored tone as before, "Fuck off you stupid giraffe. You're getting on my nerves." He absently noted the way her face turned red before she turned away from him with a huff. The fact that she showed very little reaction to his words showed how used to them she was. Back when he had first started cussing her out, she had looked close to fainting.

Harry tried to ignore his aunt after that and return to his book, but then she came back and stood in the doorway. The feeling of her eyes glaring at him was starting to make his skin crawl. When this carried on for five more minutes, he had had enough. He slammed his book closed again and followed her downstairs. She didn't even look at the post as she walked past it on her way to the kitchen.

Letting out a sigh, Harry slowly moved to grab the post. It wasn't like he actually cared one way or another, he just didn't want his Aunt to think she could boss him around without any argument. If he started giving ground they would walk all over him, and Harry had spent too long getting them to mostly ignore him to bother retraining them now.

He decided to take a look through the letters while he made his way to the kitchen, expecting the first of his university acceptances to be arriving soon. While not fond of self-advertising, a ten year old boy genius would always catch the eyes of universities, and he had been sent applications for several without even asking. At this point it was a formality; Harry could choose any university in the world and they would probably lay a red carpet for his arrival if he asked.

There was a postcard from his Aunt Marge for his Uncle, a few bills, and three letters with his name on them.

The first had the Cambridge University logo in the corner, the second was Oxford, but the third he was unfamiliar with. The envelope looked more than a little old fashioned, made from parchment instead of paper. It was actually sealed with red wax, with some kind of emblem pressed into it. But what really caught his attention was the hand written address on the front:

Mr H. J. Potter,

The Smallest Room in the House,

4 Private Drive

Was this supposed to be a joke or something?

Frowning as he walked into the kitchen, Harry tossed the other envelopes at his Aunt without looking before taking a seat. Ignoring his relatives as they started ranting about how ungrateful he was, the dark haired boy put the university letters to one side so he could focus on the strange letter.

Dear Mr Potter,

We are delighted to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…

He stopped reading after the first line, holding the obviously joke letter from the Dursleys and frowning at them.

"Ha-ha, very funny. I'm leaving in a few weeks anyway; you don't need to send fake acceptance letters from a clearly made up school."

Without bothering to wait for their reactions, Harry crumbled the letter and tossed it over his shoulder into the kitchen bin before turning to his real letters.

XXX

Harry would give his relatives credit, they were nothing if not persistent.

Over the next week Harry received another twenty letters, all saying the same thing and all binned before he even bothered to finish them. His relatives even played the part of acting like they didn't send the letters, going so far as to act like they were trying to stop them from arriving.

After his Uncle nailed the letter box shut, the letters were left on the porch. When that didn't seem to work, the letters were shoved through the windows that were left open in the night to let cool air into the house. Then the day before, hundreds of the letters came shooting out of the chimney like a garden hose. Harry ignored them all and didn't stop his Uncle from burning them and bricking up the fireplace.

He didn't know why they were still trying to pull the joke- or whatever the letters were supposed to be. Normally, when he called them out on something they would just drop it and pretend not to have done anything to begin with.

That night he decided to read on his bed, not even keeping track of the time as it drew closer to midnight- his birthday. The book was an English to German dictionary. Out of boredom, Harry decided to learn the language to go with the others he knew. He had stopped counting after the sixth language, simply adding the books he learned from to the pile dedicated to Languages.

He also had plans to learn Chinese next, maybe Finnish after that if he was ever bored enough. Harry didn't like having nothing to do; his mind needed something to work on constantly. It was like a constant inch that could only be scratched by learning something new.

The sound of someone banging on the front door broke him from his reading. Unbeknownst to him, the time had just reached midnight exactly.

"WHO THE BLOODY HELL IS THAT AT THIS HOUR!"

His Uncle's angry voice reached him through the door. The banging continued insistently before the enraged yelling began again, shortly followed by even louder stomping as the man ran down the stairs. Harry could almost see his purple face, that one vein on his forehead bulging dangerously.

He decided to try and ignore the commotion in favour of his book, though it wasn't easy.

Harry ignored the shouting from the visitors at the front door- a woman and a man from the sound of the voices- that reached his ears through the floor. But after several minutes passed and they were still being loud and distracting, Harry was frustrated. It even sounded like his Aunt had joined in now, too.

Getting up with a scowl, Harry moved to the top of the stairs and looked down on the four people arguing in the hallway. His Aunt and Uncle were easy to spot; he was amused to see that his Uncle's face was indeed very purple with a bulging vein.

However, it was the other two that caught his interest.

The first was an older woman looking to be in her mid-fifties, dressed in what looked like dark green robes with a pointed hat of all things on her head. Behind her was the largest man Harry had ever seen in his life. He was dressed in poorly stitched animal furs and had a head long, messy black hair and a beard covering most of his face.

"Will you shut the bloody hell up already! I am trying to read!" Harry called down, drawing the attention of all four adults at once. He noted how his relatives suddenly went very pale as they looked from him to the two unknown people. They attempted to discreetly back away and make themselves invisible.

The other two, however, were simply staring at him with slightly shocked expressions on their faces. Although, judging by the large smile that quickly covered his face, the giant man also seemed to be happy.

When several seconds passed without any of them saying anything, Harry turned away and walked back to his room. However, by the time he had returned to reading his book, the sound of footsteps reached his ears and the old woman appeared in his doorway.

Harry made a point of ignoring her for several minutes as he continued to read his book. Unfortunately, she cleared her throat loudly to get his attention.

Harry lowered his book slowly so he could look at her over the top of it. With a bored expression on his face he gestured to the book in his hands, "What the hell do you want? I'm busy, in case you didn't notice."

His words brought a slight frown to the woman's lips as she stepped into the room.

"Mr. Potter, I am Professor McGonagall and the man downstairs is Rubeus Hagrid. We are here because you did not respond to our letters," she said in a clipped voice, her eyes never moving from his as she spoke.

Harry sat up and closed his book now, realizing that he wouldn't be able to read until he spoke to her. "Which letter? Oxford? Cambridge? You claim to be a Professor, so I assume you are a teacher of some sort, though the fact you would come here in the middle of the night just because I didn't reply to you is a little odd," said Harry.

Frowning at his words, the now named McGonagall pulled out a familiar letter and held it out to him.

Harry didn't make any move to take it, merely raising an eyebrow at the woman.

"So you're the ones sending me the joke letter? And here I thought it was my Aunt and Uncle. Should have known they weren't smart enough to pull it off when the letters came shooting out the fireplace," said Harry absently as he leaned back slightly.

Her frown only deepened as she stepped closer and held the letter out to him again, " , I assure you this is no joke."

Still looking bored, Harry shrugged his shoulders and took the letter offered to him. He opened it and pointed at the first line, "'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry'? Am I supposed to believe in magic because you send me some letters and turn up in a pointy hat?" he asked sarcastically.

His words seemed to only confuse the woman, her eyes narrowing as she seemed to be thinking something over. When she finished, McGonagall let out a deep sigh and pulled out a stick from her sleeve, pointing it at his desk. There was a flash of light that shot from the end of the stick to his desk, and then his desk was no longer a desk.

Instead it was now a pig. A pig that very much reminded Harry of his Uncle and Cousin.

Blinking slowly as he looked from the pig to McGonagall, Harry raised an eyebrow before turning his full attention to the old woman, pushing his glasses up to cover his eyes when they slipped down slightly.

"Ok…you now have my only slightly divided attention," he said, somehow still managing to sound bored even as his mind started to work overtime.

XXX

An hour later, Harry found himself walking out of Private Drive following McGonagall and Hagrid. He carried a bag that had been expanded on the inside by McGonagall to hold all his books. They were really the only things he owned that he cared enough to bring with him, even if he only ever read them once.

The conversation with McGonagall had been…enlightening, to say the least. Needless to say, she had gotten Harry's attention after turning his desk into a pig. After that she went on to explain about the Wizarding world, Hogwarts, and even some things about his parents. Turns out they both went to Hogwarts to learn magic too.

After that Harry agreed to go to Hogwarts. After all, he could go to University later in life, and the only reason he was going to go before was because of his boredom. Magic sounded interesting. If nothing else, maybe it would be harder for him to learn than other things. He was told to pack anything he wanted to take with him before leaving without a word to his relatives.

Once outside, he was offered McGonagall's hand as Hagrid walked over to a large motorbike after saying he would seem them both at Hogwarts. The moment he took her hand Harry felt like he was being squeezed through a straw. It was a very uncomfortable sensation, and as it was happening the world seemed to spin around him in random and undistinguishable blurs. But the moment it stopped and the dizziness wore off, Harry found himself in a completely different place than where they had been a moment ago.

He was now standing outside a rundown looking pub, its sign claiming it to be 'The Leaky Cauldron'.

So that was what teleportation was like…interesting. He would have to remember the feeling of it, maybe try and recreate it himself at a later date and make it less unpleasant.

Harry silently followed his guide into the pub, his keen eyes taking in every detail as she led him to the bar and spoke with a bald, hunchbacked man with only three teeth in his smiling mouth. There were several people drinking even at this early hour, all dressed in robes of various colours. The glasses behind the bar were floating around before being cleaned by a floating rag and moving to the shelves on the back wall.

'Very efficient,' thought Harry.

Nodding to himself, Harry tuned back into what McGonagall was saying just in time to hear her booking a room for him to stay in until he was meant to get the train to Hogwarts. Guess he wasn't going to be seeing the Dursleys for a while then…the thought was almost enough to bring a smile to his face.

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The next morning Harry was woken up by the sound of someone knocking on his door, followed by the slightly muffled voice of Professor McGonagall. Quickly shaking off his sleepiness, Harry stretched for a moment before calling out and saying he would be out after getting dressed.

After thinking about what his temporary guide had told him last night before he went to sleep, Harry decided that it would be easier to dress in a way that made it harder to recognize him. This just meant putting on an old red cap to cover his scar and keeping his head down so people wouldn't see his face.

Hearing that he was credited for the killing of a 'Dark' wizard as a baby honestly made Harry wonder about the Wizarding world's intelligence as a whole and if he should reconsider his choice to be a part of it. Who in their right mind would think that a baby could kill someone that was reported to have killed hundreds of people, women and children included?

Even with the little amount of information McGonagall had been able to give him on the subject, Harry could tell it was most likely something his parents had done that had killed the man, so why was it himself who was credited for it? Either this 'Wizarding World' was a bunch of idiots, or they were a bunch of sheep following the words of a shepard; not that there was really much difference between the two options as far as he was concerned.

Though the information that his scar came from the time he was hit with a curse that should have killed him was interesting; he would definitely have to look into it later.

After a quick breakfast provided by Tom the barman, McGonagall led him to the back of the pub. They came out into a small alley that smelled like puke, but the older woman simply ignored it and tapped her wand on the back wall. The air was filled with the sound of grinding bricks, and Harry watched with his regular bored expression only slightly lessened as the bricks started to fold back on themselves into an archway.

On the other side of the archway was a busy street with people walking around between the different shops without a care in the world, all dressed in robes with pointy hats on their heads.

As he was led through the archway, Harry listened to McGonagall telling him the place was called Diagon Alley. He absently wondered why he didn't hear any of the noises from the street before the wall had opened up.

He already knew their first stop was going to be the large bank at the end of the street, another fact the Professor had gone over with him before he went to bed. As they walked towards it Harry's eyes moved from one shop to another and took in everything he could. He had already spotted a bookshop and planned to spend quite a lot of time looking through their selection.

Just because they were given a list of books they would need for school didn't mean he couldn't get a few extra to read in his spare time.

The bank itself was impressive, a large white marble monolith with gold to show both power and wealth. The white marble steps led up towards a pair of large intimidating doors with armed guards standing on either side; the axe staffs in their hands stood almost two feet taller than the guards themselves. Then there were the actual guards, both short creatures with pale skin and long hooked noses. Long fingers ending in inch long claws wrapped around the shafts of their weapons, and their bodies were covered in polished metal armour.

Harry stood over a head taller than both, yet knew they could kill him in a second without trying.

McGonagall had also told him about these creatures, or rather warned him about them. Goblins, a warrior like race with a fondness for riches of any sort and very short tempers. While there had been animosity between them and the wizards in the past, though even now it wasn't much better, they were now the Bankers of the Wizarding world. They guarded the wealth of wizards and witches, and were given a lot of leeway to do so.

Apparently, the bank itself worked in a way similar to an Embassy in the Muggle world. It was considered foreign soil and therefore was out of the controlling government's jurisdiction. It allowed the Goblins to use any security they wished even if the country the bank was based in declared the method illegal. Of course, there were a few exceptions that the Goblins agreed to, but for the most part they were left to their own devises.

Honestly, from what little he had been told of the Goblins by Professor McGonagall, Harry liked them already. She told him they didn't like to mince words, so the best method was to just talk straight with them. They were practical, but enjoyed making people they didn't like squirm, and were all too happy to remind people where they stood when they got out of line.

The bank wasn't too busy when they arrived because it was still early, and they were able to walk straight up to a teller without waiting in line. The Goblin behind the counter was slowly examining a pile of rubies one at a time with a jeweler's magnifying glass held to his eye- at least, Harry assumed it was a male. He didn't know enough about the species to be 100% sure. The goblin also seemed to be ignoring them even after McGonagall cleared her throat in an attempt to get its attention.

After five minutes of this, Harry got bored.

"Hey, arsehole behind the counter ignoring us, do your bloody job already. I have better things to do than stand here, watching you figure out that only half of the rubies in that pile are real," Harry said, his words drawing the shocked looks and attention of everyone within earshot.

They also seemed to finally get the attention of the Goblin, who looked up from the pile of stones on his desk. A small frown was on its lips with several sharp teeth poking out as he tried to stare him down without success. When he realized this, the Goblin let out a small chuckle before it turned into full blown laughter.

"You have a sharp eye, young wizard. How could you tell that some of them are fake?" the Goblin asked. His voice was deep and throaty, and as he spoke the goblin leaned forward slightly to get a better look at him.

With his face still set in a bored expression, Harry reached over and grabbed two of the rubies from the pile right from under the Goblins chin, one fake and the other real, before holding them up to the light. He also ignored the shocked faces of the people around him at the fact he had just taken the stones and still had his hand.

Harry held the stones in such a way that the light shone through them and hit the desk in two separate spots, one being a slightly paler red then the other.

"The way the light shines through them is what gives them away. The real ruby is the darker blood red. The fake is paler because the light travels through it easier. While it is possible to make a fake that doesn't have this problem, whoever made these was clearly an idiot and didn't put much effort into them. Sloppy work if I've ever seen it," Harry explained in a flat tone. He tossed the stones back onto the table into the correct piles.

Harry then pulled the key McGonagall had given him last night out of his pocket and placed it on the desk between them. Finally meeting the impressed expression of the Goblin he said, "Now can I go to my bloody vault and take some money out? I have a lot to do and standing here waiting for you to stop ignoring me is a waste of my time."

For a moment the Goblin just stared at Harry as if looking for something , before a smirk finally crossed his lips.

"Griphook!" shouted the Goblin at the top of his voice. Another goblin came running over, his little tailed suit wrinkled slightly in his rush before he stopped next to Harry's leg and bowed deeply to the first Goblin.

"Yes, Chief Ragroc?" asked Griphook, his voice a lot higher than the now identified Ragroc.

"Take this young wizard to his vault," ordered Ragroc as he nodded to Harry with the smirk still in place.

XXX

Fifteen minutes later, after two very high speed cart rides through a maze of tunnels, Harry and McGonagall left Gringotts Bank. Harry had paid for a special pouch that was bigger on the inside and could only be opened by him and tied it to his belt. He absently wondered why it didn't feel any heavier than it would when empty. The pouch itself was black leather, with a golden inlay of a G inside a circle to identify it as a Gringotts pouch.

As they got to the bottom of the steps, McGonagall let out a tired sigh before turning to him with a frown.

"What did I tell you about being polite, ?" she scolded. "You almost gave me a heart attack, speaking to a Goblin in such a manner."

Harry merely shrugged without looking at her, finding more interest in the many shops lining the street. "He was wasting both of our time by ignoring us, I merely called him out on it. Besides, it worked didn't it?" Harry asked without looking at the older witch.

"It was still very reckless; I expect better from you," McGonagall said sternly.

This made Harry stop and look at her with a blank expression, an eyebrow raised slightly.

"Based on the fact I have only known you since last night, you have no reason or right to expect anything from me," Harry stated flatly before turning away again.

That seemed to shut her up, for the moment at least. Harry honestly just wanted to get on with his shopping, because as soon as McGonagall left he'd be able to get some of his own done without her looking over his shoulder.

The next hour was spent moving from one shop to another, collecting his school supplies one at a time. The first stop had been to get a trunk, though Harry intended to return after McGonagall left to have a look at some of the more heavily charmed ones. Having a whole room fit inside a box would be very useful, surely.

Then they bought his Potions supplies from a rather…unpleasant smelling shop. Again, he would need to return and buy more, though he wasn't looking forward to it. He resolved to find something to block his nose before going near it again.

There had been a slight issue getting his robes, mostly because Harry couldn't understand the appeal of wearing them and had tried to talk his way out of getting any. But in the end, it was the school uniform and he wasn't given a choice. It was just another shop for him to come back to later in the hopes of finding something more to his taste. He also made a mental note to read up on the school rules so he could find a loophole regarding the uniform.

By the end of the hour they only had two more stops to make.

The first was for Harry to see if any of the animals in the pet store caught his eye, and the other was to get his wand. Harry decided to look at the animals first.

The shop selling the different animals smelled almost as bad as the apothecary and was a lot darker inside to accommodate its nocturnal occupants. McGonagall had decided to stay outside while he looked around with his shopping, muttering something under her breath that Harry didn't catch.

For such a small shop on the outside, a lot had been packed inside. Hanging from the roof were what looked like hundreds of bird cages of different sizes, with just about every species of owl inside them. There were tanks running along the ground holding large toads, many Harry recognised as definitely not being native to England. Then there were other cages stacked on top of each other with cats inside, all different sizes and colours.

There were other animals too: a tank with several snakes, a hawk mixed in with the owls hanging from the roof, and others that Harry could not identify that he could only assume were magical in nature. One tank was full of large slugs that seemed to be glowing slightly, the label on the tank proclaiming them as 'Fire Slugs' with a warning for customers not to touch them with their bare hands.

He walked slowly through the shop, being careful not to hit his head on any of the hanging cages. At one point, a Snowy Owl caught his eyes, but Harry shook his head after a moment of thought and carried on.

"Caw!"

It was then his attention was brought to a loud sound at the very back of the store, where a single cage was sitting on a table. Inside the cage was a raven, though it was bigger than the average for its species. Its feathers were a pure inky black with a touch of dark purple at the ends, and its beady black eyes seemed to shine with an intelligence that was missing in most of the owls he had seen in the store.

Moving closer to get a better look, Harry tilted his head to the left slightly, the Raven following the movement. He leaned closer until his nose was only an inch from the cage.

"I wouldn't get too close to that one if I was you lad. She's got a wicked temper and a sharp beak to match. Had a piece out of everyone that's got too close, that one has," said a voice from behind him.

Frowning slightly, Harry backed away and turned to see a young woman with brown hair and pale blue eyes standing behind him. She wore simple, close fitting clothes with a thick leather apron over them, along with thick gloves to match it. He could also see several cuts on her face and exposed parts of her arm. She was clearly someone that worked at the shop.

"Can I see her outside of the cage?" Harry asked.

The woman's eyes narrowed slightly at him and seemed to size him up with a glance, something that had been happening to him a lot today. After staying silent for a moment, she shrugged and pulled a wand out from behind her apron, waving it at the cage and opening the lock without taking a step closer.

"It's on your head if she bites you. Honestly, if I can't sell her soon I'll have to-"

Whatever the woman was going to say trailed off when Harry opened the cage door and the raven jumped out and landed on his wrist. Her eyes widened slightly when the raven didn't attack him.

"Well I'll be…" she murmured.

Harry slowly brought the bird up so she was in front of his face, carefully running a finger down the back of her neck. Moving a little closer, the shop owner flinched back when the raven turned to her and tried to bite her hand when she got too close.

"Caw!"

"Bloody bird! Don't know what you're doing, but if you want her she's yours for 3 Galleon and 8 Sickles with the cage thrown in," the woman said.

Moving his hand so the raven could hop to his shoulder, Harry turned to the woman but made no move for the cage.

"2 Galleons, but without the cage. You already said you haven't been able to sell her and I don't need a cage. Though I will take some feed for her if you sell it here."

The woman frowned, but after a moment she nodded her agreement and moved to grab a bag he assumed was the food.

"Fine. At this point I'll be glad to see the back of the little terror," she said over her shoulder as she moved to the counter.

After paying for both the raven and the bag of food, Harry left the store. He ignored the look McGonagall sent to both him and the bird still on his shoulder as they came into view.

"A very odd choice, Mr. Potter; most prefer owls. Do you have a name for it?" asked McGonagall as she eyed the raven, keeping far back and out of reach.

"She, Professor, not it…and I was thinking of naming her Poe. After one of my favourite poets.".

The name got a quiet caw and an affectionate rub against his head from the bird, which Harry took to mean she liked it. McGonagall didn't comment, though Harry saw the look in her eyes when she saw them interacting.

They quickly made their way to get the last item on his list needed before McGonagall left, his wand from Ollivander's.

XXX

 **Hope you like the chapter, let me know what you think :)**

 **There is a reason I stopped it here, but don't want to spoil the next chapter ;)**


	2. Grimoire

**Ok so a good response overall so far to the rewrite, though a few have pointed out the mistakes. I understand that it was constructive criticism and even where people are coming from. However, and I know I have told people this in several AN's in several of my fic's, I am Dyslexic.**

 **I can read over a chapter a hundred times and will still miss things that are easy for others to see. I rely heavily on spellchecker but it can only do so much, and sometimes when it gives you several different but similar word I can't tell the difference between them and pick the wrong one.**

 **It's not that I didn't take the time to read through and check my chapters, it's just that I can't see most of the mistakes even when I do.**

 **But anyway.**

 **This chapter is where it will start have more changes, and I am sure you will see what they are in the first half of this chapter. I hope you like what I did, as I thought it would fit better with the Harry in this fic.**

 **Enjoy:)**

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 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing :(

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 **Beta:** alexis. metoyer. 1

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Chapter 2- Grimoire

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Like most of the other shops in Diagon Alley, Ollivander's looked small and dingy on the outside, though Harry was quickly picking up on the fact that most were bigger on the inside than should be possible. The windows were covered in a thin layer of dust and grime that blocked out almost all light from the outside, and the sign above the door was old and faded.

McGonagall stayed outside again as he went in.

As he stepped inside Harry was hit by the smell of various kinds of wood and oil. A few rays of light that creeped through the windows showed the air was thick with dust, the only other light source being a small oil lamp resting on the counter. Behind the counter were shelves stacked with thousands of small boxes, some cardboard and others wooden. There were no labels on any of them though, so Harry wasn't sure how anyone would be able to tell the difference between one and another.

"Caw!"

He didn't understand why or how, but for some reason the moment Poe let out a squawk Harry understood the warning she was giving him. In response, he turned to see that there was a man standing behind him in the shadows. He seemed to be a very old man- though Harry couldn't begin to guess at his exact age- with shoulder length, wiry grey hair and a wrinkled face. His hands were bony and covered in small scars and fresh scratches that showed he worked a lot with his hands. His eyes were an almost milky blue that made Harry wonder if the man was actually blind.

However, it was proven he wasn't when his eyes moved from Poe and then to Harry's face before flicking up to his covered scar.

"A smart bird you have there, Mr. Potter. She will be a good familiar to you in the years to come, I am sure," he said in an airy voice with a small easy smile on his face.

Deciding to put the familiar comment to the back of his mind for the moment, Harry narrowed his eyes at the man who he assumed was the 'famous wand maker', as McGonagall had referred to him. .

"You know who I am then?" asked Harry.

The man merely chuckled as he walked past him to move to the other side of the counter.

"I remember every wand and Magical Focus I have ever sold Mr. Potter, including your own parents. I have been expecting you for many years now…" Ollivander replied while his eyes started moving over the boxes behind him.

Interesting, so the old man claimed to remember every wand he had ever sold. If that was true, it was an impressive feat. Wait…he didn't just say wands did he? He said wand and Magical Focus…were there other things that you could use to channel magic besides a wand?

Another thought to look up later; he would surely be busy for at least a few days after this.

"I see…I guess there is little point in pleasantries then. I am sure you understand why I am here. However, I do not know the process involved in choosing a wand," Harry said. His own eyes had already started moving over the many boxes again. There had to be thousands of them.

"Ah! Well then, first let me explain something to you that is very important, Mr. Potter. You do not choose your wand; the wand chooses you."

Ollivander's statement got a raised eyebrow from Harry as he walked closer to the old man and leaned on the surprisingly dust free counter.

"I see. Would you mind explaining that to me a little more?"

The man gave him a calculating look for a moment, before a small smile crossed his old lips.

"Normally, when one as young as you asks me that question I would merely say that the reason is unknown since many do not understand the complexity of Magical Foci; however, I have a feeling you are different than most. Take wands for example. Every wand has its own personal magical signature, almost like a personality. For a wizard to be able to use a wand, their own magic must be a close enough match with that of the wand, or the magic will not be as effective."

Throughout the explanation Harry had been nodding his head, his mind filing it away for closer consideration later. There was just one thing that kept jumping out at Harry, something that his mind needed to know or it would be another itch in the back of his head.

"You said, 'wands for example', and have used the words 'Magical Focus' several times since I walked into this shop. Are there other ways to channel magic than with a wand?"

Ollivander's cloudy eyes seemed to almost light up with approval as a smirk crossed his lips.

"Very good, Mr. Potter! Not many pick up on the hints I like to slip in!" Ollivander bent down under the counter as he continued his explanation, with Harry actually listening very carefully to everything he was saying.

"There are several different kinds of Magical Focus, each with different aspects and effects that make them different; different advantages, disadvantages, temperaments. Wands are the most versatile Magical focus and most reliable…easiest to use for the masses," he stood back up and placed two more items on the table.

The first was a long wooden staff cut from a rough piece of wood. It was approximately 6 feet long, the wood itself being light brown but with dark brown markings carved into it. The second item was a large, black, leather-bound book. The cover was blank and the pages were made from expensive but old looking parchment. There was also part of a chain attached to the spine, five links that clinked slightly as it was placed on the table. It also had metal fixings on the outside of the book and along the spine where the chain was connected.

Letting out a slight groan as he stood up straight, a hand on his lower back, Ollivander placed his touched the staff but didn't pick it up.

"Willow, 6 foot 3 1/2 inches, with a core made from powdered Hungarian Horntail Bones," Ollivander stated. He paused and looked up from the staff at Harry. "A Hungarian Horntail is a breed of dragon," he added as an afterthought.

"Magic Staffs are an old, but still useful medium for channelling magic. They simply lack the…flexibility that a wand has. They are made to channel large amounts of power in a single burst to add more kick to spells, but are more limited in what you can use with them. This is why they are not as popular as a Wand which can cast almost any spell and is limited only by the user's knowledge. Very few people use staffs anymore, although a few Aurors have been known to carry them as a secondary weapon to complement their Wands. After all, a Wand can only channel so much magic at a time, but a Staff can release a shockwave of pure magic," Ollivander explained.

It made sense to Harry why Staffs weren't as widely used, if what Ollivander said was true. In more Muggle terms, a wand is a Swish Army Knife, while a Staff would be a Machete. Nodding his understanding, Harry turned his eyes to the book, blinking in slight surprise when he felt a slight tug in his stomach pulling him towards it.

Harry didn't even look up as Ollivander moved to place his hand on the cover.

"Then we have this, a form of focus most have all but forgotten. A Grimoire…also known as a Book of Shadows. Made from the hide of an Ironbelly Dragon and sewn together with Unicorn Tail Hair, with the metal being a mixture of Cold Iron and Silver. Capable of channelling more magic then a staff, and more flexible in the variety of spells it can be used to cast. A Grimoire is, in my own humble opinion, the best magical focus that can be used. Ironic considering my profession and field of expertise, but as a person that has spent his life learning about and perfecting Magical Foci, I would be remiss to deny the truth," there was a tone of reverence in his voice as his fingers lightly brushed over the cover.

Harry still couldn't take his eyes off of the book, and the feeling in his stomach was getting stronger, urging him to reach out and touch the book. "If what you say is true, then why are Wands more commonly used?" asked Harry.

Unseen by Harry since his eyes were still fixed on the book, Ollivander got a slightly bitter look on his face, a frown replacing the slight smile that had been there a moment ago.

"In one word…Laziness, Mr. Potter. As I told you before, each Magical Focus has its advantages and disadvantages. A Grimoire requires the user to have an understanding of both Arithmancy and Written Magic, also known as Runes. To use any spell the user of the Grimoire must write down the spell in a Magic Language, along with the Arithmetic Formula of the spell, something that most Witches and Wizards simply do not have the patience or skill for. Why take the time to learn how and why a spell works when a Wand will do most of the heavy lifting for you?" Ollivander asked in a cold tone. With a shake of his head he finally looked up from the Grimoire.

Only to pause when he saw the look on Harry's face, a small smile growing to cover his lips.

"Mr. Potter…do you want to know how a Witch or Wizard activates a Grimoire and how it works?" asked Ollivander.

Harry gave a slight nod of his head.

The smile came back full force as Ollivander pushed the book towards him.

"While not commonly used in these more modern times, and also more subject to restrictions, they use a form of Blood Magic to bind themselves to their owner. A drop of blood on the chain, and if the Grimoire accepts you as its user…well, we will know. Once a Grimoire accepts an owner it can only be used by that one person, and only opened by the user or someone they have given permission to read it." Ollivander moved the chain from the spine to lay on top of the book for Harry to examine. He also made a point of placing a needle on the counter next to it.

Finally looking up from the Grimoire, Harry felt the corners of his lips lifting slightly in a small smile, and without a word pricked the end of his thumb with the needle. A drop of blood collected on it before falling onto the chain.

The effect was instantaneous.

The moment his blood touched the chain, the metal started to glow white. Even the metal fixings started to glow. The book snapped open and the pages started to move as if caught in a wind, each page starting to glow faintly as they moved before it stopped in the middle.

Without warning, the chain started to grow, new links appearing out of nowhere and floating upwards. The chain struck like a snake, shooting towards Harry's left hand and coiling around it tightly as it continued to glow and grow longer. Within seconds it had coiled around Harry's arm up to his shoulder before it finally stopped. Poe gave an indignant caw as she was forced from her perch, taking a new one on the counter.

The chain formed a hook around his shoulder before tightening to an almost painful degree before fusing together.

The Grimoire finally stopped glowing a moment later, but the pages never lost the glow completely and still seemed to hum with power.

It was a moment later that Harry realised he was panting and exhausted, sweat pouring down his face as he leaned against the counter for support. Poe returned to her perch on his shoulder, shifting slightly so she wasn't touching the chain now wrapped around his arm and shoulder.

Shaking the dizziness from his head, Harry looked up into the amused face of Ollivander, who was just placing a small box on the counter as he smiled at Harry.

"Well, it seems congratulations are in order Mr. Potter. I had a feeling when I saw the way you were looking at it while in its dormant state, and I am very happy to see I was right," Ollivander said, his smile still in place as he opened the box.

It was turned to face away from him, so Harry didn't know what was in it, but at the moment he was more interested in the Grimoire now chained to his arm.

Holding said arm out towards the old Wand Maker and making it rattle slightly, Harry raised an eyebrow and spoke in a bland tone that was slightly at odds with his still tired expression.

"Is there a way to get this off? Because life is going to be very difficult for me if I can't shower or change clothes," Harry asked.

Without looking up from his box, Ollivander absently pointed to the base of the chain where it connected to the book, "Simply pull lightly where the chain connects with the spine and it will vanish while you do your…business, Mr. Potter." He continued to look through his box before finally looking up.

"I will be needing a tail feather from your friend there, Mr. Potter, providing she is willing to supply one…"

Following the man's eyes Harry saw Poe eyeing the Wand Maker suspiciously, shifting in a way that her tail was as far away from Ollivander as possible. "Why?" asked Harry.

Ollivander simply lifted one of his eyebrows before pulling several things out from the box and placing them on the table. "Mr. Potter, you are now the owner of a Grimoire…a book. In order to use it, you need something to write in it with. Now, as this is no ordinary book you cannot be expected to write in it with an ordinary quill. I asked for a feather from…Poe, I believe you called her, because it is more personal and therefore will be more affective."

Harry could now see that Ollivander had taken out several different strips of wood and several different kinds of metal shaped like the tip of a Fountain pen.

Taking a moment to think it over Harry gave a small nod before turning to look at Poe, who turned away from him. He continued to stare until she started to fidget and shift weight between her feet, before finally letting out another caw and seeming to give in. A moment later she had reached around and used her beak to pull out one of her tail feathers and dropped it into Harry's waiting hand.

Harry handed the feather to Ollivander, who quickly pulled out a monocle with a blue lens and held it to his right eye. The old Wand Maker spent almost a minute looking over every inch of the feather before flipping the monocle over to show a pink lens and starting his examination over again.

This continued for several minutes, the lens changing to a different colour each time he turned it.

Finally, Ollivander put the monocle away and turned his attention to the different pieces of wood, humming to himself as he put several pieces back after holding them up next to the feather. He did this until there were only three pieces left and placed them in front of Harry.

"If you would please choose one, Mr. Potter," asked Ollivander as he motioned to the wood.

Giving a shrug, Harry picked up one of the sticks at random and held it out to Ollivander. Instead of looking offended, the old Wand Maker took the wood with a smile and put the other two away before turning to look at the different pen tips.

"An interesting choice, Mr. Potter. Elder wood is not often used for Magical Focus because of its connection to Death through an old Wizard Fairy tale. Many consider it a bad omen, bad luck." Ollivander said as he put several tips back into the box before moving the remaining two towards Harry.

Again without really looking, Harry took the one on the left and passed it to Ollivander. He put the other away and looked at what Harry had chosen. "Pure silver…an interesting combination." Ollivander said more to himself than Harry as he started fiddling with the different pieces he was left with.

Five minutes later Ollivander held out the complete pen for Harry to look over. The wooden shaft was about four inches long and coated in a dark varnish. The silver tip added an extra inch while Poe's feather was attached to the end. The moment it touched his skin Harry felt a slight shock run up his arm, passing through his chest, down his other hand, and into his Grimoire through the chain.

There was another glow as the two magical items connected but it faded quickly.

Giving a nod, Ollivander put everything back under the counter before turning his attention back to Harry. Before saying anything Ollivander took a piece of parchment and wrote something on it before passing it to Harry.

"Well, I think that is everything. That parchment has the names of several books you will need to buy so you can use your Grimoire. They can be found at Flourish and Blotts. All that is left for us to do now is settle my payment. I hope you understand that it will not be cheap…"

Harry simplygave a shrug and took his money pouch from his waist, waiting for Ollivander to say his prices.

"The Grimoire is 23 Galleons and 13 Sickles, and the Pen is anther 7 Galleons and 2 Sickles. All together that makes the total bill at 30 Galleons and 15 sickles, but I am willing to make it an even 30 Galleons for the excitement," said Ollivander with a wink at the end.

Not really caring considering that he still had a vault full of money at Gringotts, Harry took out the needed coins and stacked them on the counter. Ollivander didn't even bother to count. With his business done, Harry closed the Grimoire and was about to leave when he noticed that the cover had changed.

Where it had been blank before there was now a sliver crest inlayed into the leather in the form of a skeletal winged horse. Under the horse was a triangle with a circle inside it and a line cutting through both down the middle, almost looking like an eye. The last thing he noticed were several words written in Latin, and while not a language he was fluent in, Harry was able to translate it.

The basic translation was 'The Last Enemy is Death'.

Frowning slightly, Harry pointed to the Crest and showed it to Ollivander. "What is this? It wasn't there before."

The old Wand Maker's eyes widened slightly before they seemed to fill with comprehension. A smile crossed his lips yet again.

"That Mr…Potter, is something you will need to discover for yourself. Though I am sure to be looking out for news of your exploits after today. I am sure I will be hearing great things of you…many great things," said Ollivander, and he turned away and disappeared between the shelves of Wands that he had never even had Harry try.

XXX

The look on McGonagall's face when Harry left Ollivander's with a Grimoire tucked under his arm and the chain wrapped around to his shoulder had been slightly amusing. Her insistence that he go back and get a Wand instead was less so, and eventually Harry had been forced to ignore her for several minutes before she gave up and left. She made sure to tell him to meet her in the bar of The Leaky Cauldron on September 1st to be taken to the Train.

Giving a shrug after she had left, Harry had simply returned to his room at the Bar. After putting his newly bought things down he fell onto the bed with a sigh. He was still tired after bonding with the Grimoire, and had fallen asleep within seconds of his head hitting the pillow.

XXX

When Harry awoke the next day, the first thing he did was take a shower. Like Ollivander had said, the chain had disappeared after he tapped it where it connected with the spine; though oddly enough, he could still feel the chains even though they weren't there.

Another odd thing was that the moment he was dressed again the chains reappeared without any prompting from Harry. It wasn't a big deal, so he ignored it for the time being. With Poe on his shoulder Harry had set off back into Diagon Alley, asking Tom the Bartender to open the archway for him.

Harry's first stop had been to buy a better Trunk then the one he had bought with McGonagall, taking his time before picking out what the storeowner called a Class 5 Trunk. It had seven separate room sized compartments, each with their own key, and Harry had paid extra to have them all furnished.

Harry then made his way to Flourish and Blotts and spent the rest of the day picking out books. After finding the books Ollivander had told him he would need, Harry took his time looking over every book in the store and putting the ones he found interesting aside for later.

By the time he had finished there were thousands of books piled up next to the checkout counter. A bemused shop girl slowly made her way through them and added up the cost while Harry had his nose in a book about something called Occlumency. After reading the basic description, he had decided it was a very important skill to learn before he did anything else. He did not like the idea of being unprotected against someone reading his mind.

After being handed a temporarily expanded and lightened bag with his newly bought books inside, Harry had once again returned to his room and spent the next few hours organising his books in the Library his new Trunk had. There was still space for more books, too, but it was a start and might take him a year to get through them all. That is, if he took his time while doing schoolwork.

The day after that had been spent buying most of the stock at the Apothecary and storing it into the room in his Trunk fitted to act as a 'Stasis Room'. This was followed by another trip to buy more Potions equipment.

Harry then spent the day after that wondering around Diagon Alley and looking through the different shops, including several Second Hand and Antique shops for things of interest. He had found several different Magical Items that he would later study, and had stored them in another of his Trunk rooms.

After that Harry basically spent the next few weeks reading, practising potions, and learning enough to understand how to write spells into his Grimoire. He never actually cast any of the spells, but he wanted to at least have a few stored up and ready for when he started Hogwarts.

XXX

Harry spent the week leading up to September 1st organising his new trunk to be sure he was ready. As it stood, the different uses for magic were proving to be an interesting distraction from his usual boredom; although it didn't seem to be any more of a challenge for him than any other subject he tried.

He took to Occlumency with surprising ease. Apparently his mind was already organised for the most part, so it gave him a head start on building his defences in his mind. All of the books he read suggested imagining something from the real world around his mind, like a wall or a building to keep people out.

Harry decided to go one step further; instead of a building or a wall, he was slowly building an actual maze in his mind, one that constantly changed paths and moved. He then split his memories and knowledge, which were in the form of books, into different parts behind hidden doors that only he could see. A large collection of his more depressing memories he put in the centre of the maze to act as bait for anyone trying to invade his thoughts. He was also planning on adding something the books referred to as 'Guardians' which were mental constructs that acted like living creatures to guard his mind. Unfortunately, that was a more advanced skill and would take him another month at least to start.

Another downside for Harry was the side effect of sharpening and focusing his mind even more than it used to be. This just made things even easier and, therefore, more boring. If he wasn't more worried about someone trying to get in his head, Harry wouldn't have bothered learning Occlumency at all.

He had put learning German aside for a while as he learned the different Runes and Magical Languages, and he had already learned the basics for three different sets. He also bought a carving kit for when he was ready to start writing in or on something other than his Grimoire. Harry was hoping to be able to start on making his own broom by the end of the year, but it would depend on how much he needed to do while at school.

Maybe it would slow him down a little…although, based on what he had read of the first few years of books, Harry doubted it. He had already memorized the first two years of books and had gotten through almost half of the third- at least for the core subjects.

It was getting close to the time he was supposed to meet McGonagall at the pub with several 'Muggleborn' kids that needed help getting to the platform for the train they would be taking to Hogwarts. Harry packed everything but his Standard Book of Spells Grade Three away into his trunk.

With one hand pulling the magically lightened trunk, the other holding the book in front of his face, and his Grimoire under his arm, he started to head down to wait in the Leaky Cauldron. Poe had already left for Hogwarts and was going to meet him when he arrived.

The pub was free of its usual crowd of old and drunk Wizards and Witches, and Harry could have sworn it smelled better than usual too. It seemed that Tom was pulling out all the stops for the new Muggleborn kids that were meeting there. Said hunchback was currently in the process of handing a bottle of what Harry had learned was called Pumpkin juice to a blonde boy standing next to the bar with his parents.

Harry quietly made his way to a table in the corner of the room away from most of the other people so he could read his book in silence. It was actually working right up until someone walked over and decided to take the seat next to him. Harry decided to just try and ignore them in the hopes the person would leave.

Unfortunately, it didn't work since the bushy haired girl turned to him and started talking.

"I'm Hermione Granger. Are your parents at work too? Mine dropped me off to wait for Professor McGonagall, but I'll see them again at Christmas, so I guess its ok," said the now identified Hermione as Harry continued to try and ignore her in favour of reading his book.

Several minutes passed when Harry let out a sigh as her eyes continued to stare at him. He didn't even glance at her but said flatly, "Harry…" He hoped his tone would be enough to get her to leave. Again, it wasn't.

"What book are you reading? I already read most of the books on the list we were given; after all, it never hurts to read ahead."

The tone in her voice when she said she was reading ahead was clearly a mix of smugness and self-importance, though why she would feel that way for only reading a few chapters ahead was beyond him. Unfortunately, it was also clear the girl had no intention of leaving him alone, so with a sigh Harry lowered his book slightly to look at her over the top of it.

Hermione had blue eyes to go with the bush hair and slightly too large front teeth that gave her a chipmunk appearance. She was also already dressed in her black school robes, though without the stupid little hat.

"Why are talking to me when it is clear I am trying to read my bloody book in peace?" asked Harry.

The sight of her shocked face was almost enough to make him chuckle, which was followed by an even funnier look of righteous anger.

"You shouldn't say words like that! And I only came over because you were all on your own and I wanted to be nice." said Hermione with a frown.

Harry rolled his eyes as he turned back to his book.

"No,you didn't. You wanted to come over and try and brag about reading ahead to the only other person your age reading a book. Though why you feel that reading a few chapters ahead is anything worth bragging about, I do not understand. Now if you will shut the fuck up and leave me alone, I'm still trying to read," Harry said absently.

Instead of leaving Hermione only seemed to get angrier at him. She grabbed the book from his hands, standing up and stepping away so he couldn't take it back. "You think you're so smart, but you're only half way through the book!" she shouted, drawing the attention of several other people waiting in the pub.

Harry leveled a bored look at her, "Look again, I'm reading two years ahead. Now give me my book back." He held out his hand expectantly.

His words seemed to take the wind out of her sails, and Harry gave her enough time to look at the cover and confirm what he said was true before snatching the book back. He had hoped that would be the end of it and she would leave him alone, but a moment later Harry was disappointed. Instead, Hermione retook the seat next to him but with a more subdued attitude.

"I'm sorry…" she said quietly. It was silent for about another minute as she waited for him to respond, before carrying on talking again. "I just wanted to impress you…you were reading so I thought maybe we would have something in common, I don't really have any friends."

"Based on the fact one of the first things you did was attempt to boast, I am not surprised…" said Harry as he turned the page.

"I said I was sorry.".

"Yes, I heard you the first time," he said as he turned another page without looking up.

"You're supposed to say you're sorry back," her voice started to regain its strength.

"Why would I apologise when I am not sorry for anything I have said?" asked Harry. "Not only would it be a lie, but it would also be insulting to both of us.".

For a moment Harry thought she was going to start arguing with him again, but after taking several deep breaths, Hermione pulled out a book of her own that Harry recognised as Hogwarts: A History.

After that, they both fell into silence as they read their respective books. Several minutes later, McGonagall walked out of the fireplace with a burst of green flames, and without breaking her stride moved to the middle of the room. As she called for everyone's attention, Harry also took note of the rope in her hands, but didn't think much of it.

"Good morning everyone. As you are all aware from my visits to each of you, I am Professor McGonagall. In order to get to the platform, I will be taking the children straight from this room by use of a magic called a 'Portkey', so I will give everyone five minutes to say goodbye before gathering around me. When you do, I will ask you to take a firm hold of a part of this rope in one hand, while keeping the other on your trunks. I will warn you all that Portkey's are not the most comfortable experience, but are the easiest for a group of our size."

With no one to say goodbye too, both Harry and Hermione moved to stand with McGonagall and took hold of the rope.

XXX

 **So Harry has a Grimoire instead of a Wand, I hope you all like it. I thought why not an out of the ordinary Magical Focus for an out have for the ordinary Wizard. I actually got the idea from watching the Harry Potter Movies and noticing that Moody used a Staff at one point to send out a shockwave instead of a Wand, which got me thinking about alternative Magical Focus'.**

 **And what would be better for a genius then an overly complicated alternative to a Wand that most don't have the brains or the patients to use?**

 **I will say that Harry will not be the only one to use a Grimoire thought the fic, but others will use them more as a secondary to a Wand unlike Harry. I am sure people will be able to guess at least one other person Harry will meet that will have a Grimoire.**

 **Don't expect all updates to be this quick, I have a jumping put to build off of with the old chapters so they are speeding things up for the moment.**

 **Anyway let me know what you think of the chapter :)**


	3. Genus Hat

**This chapter is shorter than the others or then I would like, but it reached a point that just fit for me to end it. Hope you like it :)**

 **Again please don't expect chapter to be posted this quick all the time. I am still working from the old ones which speeds this up a lot. There might be a few more quick updates before things slow down to a more normal speed.**

 **Enjoy :)**

 **XXX**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing :(**

XXX

 **Beta:** alexis. metoyer. 1

XXX

Chapter 3- Genus Hat

XXX

After a rather stomach churning trip via Portkey to Platform 9 ¾, Harry was thankfully about to lose Hermione and the other Muggleborn First Years in the crowd they were faced with. His red hat was pulled low to cover his scar, and the brim was shadowing his face enough that people didn't look twice at him.

He had seen several people who were dressed in expensive clothing sending the group he arrived with disgusted glares, but didn't really care enough to comment on it. He had been practically living in the Wizarding World for several weeks and had seen the blatant bigotry many of the older and richer Magical Families showed to those born or raised by 'Muggles'.

He had even taken the time to look into it more deeply. He realised that they were even bigger idiots then he had first assumed; their ideology of 'Blood Purity' was medieval and would lead to the older families' eventual extinction. The inbreeding they practiced was already starting to cause issues- mainly the increase in the number of 'Squibs' born- that they refused to acknowledge. Anyone with a rudimentary understanding of genetics could see that they were poisoning their own bloodlines in a blind attempt to avoid 'contaminating' themselves with 'impure stock'.

None of their logic makes sense!

After all, no matter what they claimed, any Wizard Family that could trace their family tree back long enough would eventually see that the first Witch or Wizard of their family was a Muggleborn. Muggleborns were simply the First Generation magic users of their Muggle family. They would eventually be considered 'Pure Bloods' if judging by the current standard of 'Blood Purity'.

The whole issue did nothing but prove that the Wizarding Community as a whole was a bunch of idiots. As far as Harry was concerned, he was happy to leave them to their ignorance as they slowly poisoned their families.

Because it was still early, most of the students that would be boarding the train were still waiting outside on the platform talking with their friends and families. This meant Harry had plenty of choices for empty compartments. He eventually settled for one a few compartments away from the back of the train, close to where the toilets were, and pulled out a book on Runes to read.

He ignored the sounds outside his compartment as more and more people started to board. It became increasingly harder, however, when they started shouting to each other between compartments.

Harry made a mental note to move learning the Silencing Charm to the top of his to do list if this was how it was going to be for the whole year.

Finally giving it up as a lost cause, Harry let out a sigh and put his book down. He pulled his legs up so they were crossed under him on the seat and closed his eyes with his Grimoire in his lap. While he slowed his breathing, he concentrated on his thoughts like he had been doing since starting his Occlumency training.

When he opened his eyes again, Harry found he was no longer looking at the inside of the compartment. Instead, he appeared to be inside a walled off room designed like a study. Bookcases lined the walls surrounding a large wooden table in the center of the room. The only light in the room came from several candles that never seemed to get smaller. Harry himself was sitting in a comfortable leather armchair with a cup of tea resting on a table on his right, his feet up on a small footrest in front of him. His Grimoire was lying on the table next to his tea, but the chains weren't connecting him to it.

The whole room had a slightly Victorian look and feel to it that Harry found relaxing.

Taking a sip of the tea, Harry let out a relaxed sigh as he stood up and walked over to the table. Despite it not being real tea, it tasted and felt the same from his memory, so he didn't care.

This room was Harry's Mental Core- the real one. Not the fake core he had constructed in the centre of his Maze defense. Although it closed off from the rest of the Maze, it was actually hidden under that room in such a way that only Harry should be able to find it. It was actually the only part of his Mind Harry really spent any time in; it was from this place that he created and controlled the rest of his defenses.

The books on the walls are the information and memories he had yet to sort into their proper place in the maze. However, the most important part of the room was the large table he was now looking down on- mainly, what was on the table. Covering every inch of the table was a Maze created mostly out of black Lego blocks; several of the walls being made from white blocks that represented the hidden doors. The red blocks were the trap rooms with unimportant information.

Without paying much attention to his movements, Harry started rearranging several of the walls and changing the layout of the Maze. The sound of stone grinding against stone was reaching his ears from a distance as the Maze that protected his mind moved to match the Maze on the table.

After doing this for several minutes, Harry moved to the bookcase and picked a book at random, quickly flipping through it to see what it held. When turning back to the model Maze, he took a few seconds to contemplate before holding the book over a particular part of the Maze in the east section. The room held a red door, and after Harry dropped the book, it disappeared in a flash of light before even touching the model. Harry then sensed the book on a shelf inside the room within the Maze.

It was a slow process really, but not compared to most users of Occlumency. Harry was a Prodigy and the speed he was working at would be considered impossible to most. While from his perspective within his mind it seemed slow, only seconds were passing outside in the real word.

That was another interesting thing about Occlumency. The brain worked faster than most people realised, and when Harry was in his head, he was working at the brain's speed. One of the reasons Occlumency was so hard to learn was because people needed time to adjust to the speed difference between their mind and their body. It could be disorientating at first and usually took months- or even years- to adjust before someone could even begin to build up their defenses.

In fact, a 'Mind Battle'- as many books called it- which was when a user of Occlumency came under attack from a user of Legilimency, could be seconds in the real world while lasting hours in the minds of the two who were fighting.

It was all very interesting to Harry, though at the moment he had no interest in learning or using Legilimency. He only read enough about it to help build up his defenses because you can't guard against something you don't understand.

Harry spent hours flipping through books one at a time before dropping them into the correct place in the Maze. He would also stop periodically to move and change the layout of the maze. Unfortunately, every time he took a book off the shelf to be sorted, another would appear to take its place. It was tedious but necessary work, and Harry found it almost therapeutic to sort through his own thoughts. It was a mindless job which was ironic considering where he was. It just didn't take a lot of thought to do.

Unfortunately, all too soon Harry was forced to leave his work for another time when he felt someone start to shake his real body's shoulder in an attempt to get his attention.

Frowning as he put the book currently in his hands in the right section of the Maze, he closed his eyes with controlled breathing as he returned to the outside world.

XXX

Harry came back to his now stiff body with a groan and frowned at the one shaking him. His eyes slowly opened to the sight of Hermione glaring at him with a nervous round face boy standing behind her.

Harry had hoped he had lost her, but it seemed his luck didn't hold up.

"You better have a bloody, good reason for breaking my concentration?" Harry asked as he stared the two down. Hermione pulled her hand away, and he didn't miss the way her eyes seemed to glance down at the Grimoire in his lap before moving back to his face, either.

"You were asleep," Hermione stated stiffly.

"I was meditating and working on my Occlumency when you broke my concentration," Harry corrected.

While Hermione clearly had no clue what he was talking about, Harry saw the comprehension flash through the round-faced boy's eyes for a moment. When he looked back down at the floor and shuffled nervously, Harry turned his attention to the new face.

"Who the hell are you and what do you want?"

Before the boy could speak, Hermione stepped between them.

"That's Neville-" she started to say, but Harry interrupted her.

"I was asking him; I assume he knows how to speak and doesn't need you to do it for him."

His usual bored tone seemed to shut her up for the moment since an embarrassed blush spread across her cheeks and she stepped back again. The now named Neville looked like he wanted to sink into the ground when Harry turned his full attention back on him, looking down and rubbing his hands together nervously.

"N-Neville Longbottom… I'm looking for my toad, Trever and…" Neville mumbled quietly before trailing off at the end.

"Why not ask an older student to use a summoning charm on your toad? I heard there are Prefects that you can ask; why not go find one of them?" Harry asked this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Both Hermione and Neville spent the next five seconds blinking at him, before letting out uncomfortable chuckles that made him sigh.

"Let me guess; the thought never even occurred to you. What was your plan? To go to each compartment and ask if anyone had seen him?" They both blushed more fiercely at his words, which Harry assumed was a yes.

Shaking his head, Harry picked up the book on the seat next to him that he had been reading before he had started meditating. Already reading, he didn't even look up as they both left in search of a Prefect. He was sorely tempted to lock the door behind them to avoid any more visitors.

XXX

Harry kept himself to the back of the group of first years as they were led into the hallway to wait to be called into the Great Hall. Hermione and Neville were standing on either side of him for some reason.

Since returning to the compartment on the train, the two hadn't left his side and he had even been forced to take a boat across the lake with them. Locking the door to the compartment didn't work in the end because Hermione had kept banging on it until he let them back in. He had had to eventually give in because she was making it impossible for him to read.

Harry had reluctantly put on the school robes, but instead of the stupid little pointy hat he had decided to keep his red cap on. He had gotten several looks for it, but he just ignored them. He was just grateful it covered his scar.

Even now he could hear several people talking about Harry Potter, asking if anyone had seen him yet. He had seen Hermione sending him the odd look out of the corner of her eye, glancing from his face to his covered forehead before turning away when he looked at her. She had definitely figured out who he was, but thankfully hadn't tried to point him out yet. If nothing else, it made him hate her a little less.

Neville seemed to be more preoccupied with his recovered toad which had been summoned by a female Prefect from Hufflepuff. Apparently, Trever had been hiding in the girls toilet on the train and had gone unnoticed sitting inside it for several hours.

The screams of the 6th year girl that had been sitting on the toilet when the toad was being summoned could be heard throughout the entire train. They were enough to make even Harry laugh when she had come running by his compartment with her jeans around her ankles and the toad flying behind her. He had even taken the time out of his reading to file the memory safely in his mind maze for later viewing.

Tuning back in to the present, Harry looked to the front of the crowd to see Professor McGonagall standing in front of them. He didn't miss the way her eyes moved disapprovingly over a red headed boy's dirty nose, Neville's unbuttoned robes, or his old, red hat. However, she didn't call him out on it, so Harry decided not to worry.

Clearly, he had left an impression on the usually stern professor. She had realised that to argue with him about it would only give her a headache.

A moment later they were all led into the Great Hall, immediately met with floating candles, an enchanted ceiling to look like the night sky, and a sea of faces staring at them. There were five tables in all; four separate ones for the students with their house banner hanging above each one, and the teachers' table at the front of the hall.

As they were led to form a line at the front of the room, Harry barely paid the students any attention and moved with the crowd of his fellow 1st years.

McGonagall walked forward with a stool in one hand and a ratty old hat in the other that she hadn't had a moment ago and stepped away. The hall fell into silence as all eyes turned to the hat.

Harry looked on with bored eyes waiting for something to happen, only to actually be surprised along with everyone else when a rip in the hat started moving as if it were a mouth and began to sing.

 _"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,_

 _But don't judge on what you see,_

 _I'll eat myself if you can find_

 _A smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,_

 _Your top hats sleek and tall,_

 _For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

 _And I can cap them all._

 _There's nothing hidden in your head_

 _The Sorting Hat can't see,_

 _So try me on and I will tell you_

 _Where you ought to be._

 _You might belong in Gryffindor,_

 _Where dwell the brave at heart,_

 _Their daring, nerve, and chivalry_

 _Set Gryffindors apart;_

 _You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

 _Where they are just and loyal,_

 _Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

 _And unafraid of toil;_

 _Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

 _if you've a ready mind,_

 _Where those of wit and learning,_

 _Will always find their kind;_

 _Or perhaps in Slytherin_

 _You'll make your real friends,_

 _Those cunning folks use any means_

 _To achieve their ends._

 _So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

 _And don't get in a flap!_

 _You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

 _For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

Harry was fascinated by the seemingly sentient hat which could be seen when his eyes actually opened fully without any boredom. It had to have been the first time in years. Was the hat actually sentient, or was it a trick? Was it artificial intelligence achieved through magic instead of computer?

Unfortunately, before he could spend any more time to consider the fascinating magical object, his attention was pulled away by the sound of McGonagall speaking to them. Her stern voice cut like a knife through the applause from the students that he had only just noticed. They all fell silent.

"When I call your name, you will come forward and take a seat, and I will place The Sorting Hat on your head. You will then be sorted into your houses," McGonagall said in a tone that implied she had said those same words many times.

Harry's attention once again drifted as the other 1st years were called up one by one. He cared very little for where anyone- or even he himself- was placed. He did listen with one ear as Hermione and Neville were sorted into Gryffindor. He thought it an odd fit for Hermione, who he was sure would have been sent to the 'Brain House' as he thought of it. Moreover, he didn't know enough about Neville to question his placement, but he did seem a little too skittish for the house.

Hermione was a bookworm through and through, though, not that he was one to talk. However, Harry also liked the practical side of work, too. That was something he wasn't sure would be the brown haired girl's forte. Neville, on the other hand, was an open book- shy and lacking in confidence. Yet after finding his toad, the boy had returned to the compartment despite the fact Harry made him uncomfortable. He clearly had a backbone hidden somewhere.

"Potter, Harry," called McGonagall.

The moment his name passed McGonagall's lips, all sound in the hall stopped. Heads turned as one to the stool. It would have been a very unnerving sight if he hadn't been expecting it; even the Professors were suddenly leading forward in their seats!

Frowning at the attention, Harry slowly made his way to the stool with a bored expression on his face. He also didn't miss the faces of Hermione and Neville at their table, but didn't care enough to note their reactions.

He took the seat without a word and removed his hat. Not a moment later his sight was covered by the brim of the Sorting Hat.

Then suddenly he was back in his mind, standing in his Core Room.

"Well now, it has been many a year since I have sat on the head of someone like yourself, Mr. Potter. And such an interesting Occlumency defense, as well… It almost had me stumped for a moment there..." said a slightly croaky voice from behind him.

Slowly turning to face the intruder in his mind, Harry was a little surprised to come face to face with…himself- or at least a version of himself. The colours of his doppelganger were faded, leaving him mostly in black and white with grey to blend the two together- not unlike an old photo. It also had the sorting hat on its head which covered the top of its face and eyes. It actually made it look like the folds of the hat were the top of its face.

It wasn't looking at him directly, but mostly at his model Maze on the table. A slightly glowing hand was held over it, moving over the rooms holding his memories and knowledge. It paused for a moment over some rooms and then continued its movement. It even took the time to move several of the pieces around, not unlike Harry himself did.

Harry blinked, slowly becoming calm as he watched what he understood to be a representation of the Sorting Hat. Oddly enough, after taking a moment to think it over he wasn't all that surprised, or even upset, that the Hat had apparently broken through his Maze without apparent effort. It just meant he would need to work hard and find the crack it had used to get into his Core Room.

Harry moved to stand next to the hat as it continued its examination.

"Do you mind if I ask how you got through it? If there is a hole in my defense, I would like to cover it so others cannot use it. Also, do you have a name, or should I just call you 'Sorting Hat'?" Harry asked as he also looked over the Model.

The Hat actually paused at his last question for a moment before carrying on as if it never happened. He let out a quick laugh.

"…HA! In all my years you are the only person to ever ask me my name. You may call me…Genus. Genus Hat is my name." Harry couldn't help but snort quietly. The Sorting Hat's name was Latin for 'Sorting Hat'. He should have known.

"As for how I got in, you don't need to worry. Your defense is very impressive and there are no 'cracks', as you put it. You simply cannot defend from yourself…" explained Genus, trailing off at the end and actually looking at Harry out of the corner of his…eye?

Frowning slightly as he thought it over, Harry once again took in the form of the hat, a copy of Harry himself…that was it. Genus used a copy of Harry himself to slip past the Maze and straight into his Core Room. The Maze didn't work because Harry went straight to his Core Room and Genus, at the moment, was Harry.

He couldn't help but smirk, "Very clever." Genus seemed to finally finish his examination with a sigh.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter…can I call you Harry?" After a nod a quick nod from Harry, he continued, "Good. But now there is a problem, Harry, because I honestly don't know where to put you," Genus ended with a sigh and a frown on his clothed face.

Harry raised an eyebrow at this, but didn't show any other emotion, "Has this ever happened before?"

"Never in all my years of sorting. There have been tough choices, of course; sometimes a mind will be fit for two or three houses. You, however, are different," Genus said as he moved to sit on Harry's chair.

"You are more than smart enough for Ravenclaw- too smart in fact. I fear that by placing you in that house the others will kill themselves trying to compete with you, so I cannot send you there. Hufflepuff wouldn't work; you have no true understanding of loyalty or people, and hard work is not really necessary for one such as yourself. You have no true fear, but at the same time there is no bravery that would allow me to place you in Gryffindor. Slytherin may have been a good fit as you are more than cunning enough, but you have no true goal or ambition. You truly are an interesting person Harry…would you like to be placed in any particular house? Choose where you want to go?" The 'cloth' eyebrow lifted slightly in question.

Harry merely gave an indifferent shrug, "I have no real preference. I personally feel the system is outdated and should have been abolished by now. No offense to you of course, but separating students seems to only ensure house rivalry."

"I am afraid you are correct, but I was created to sort and that is what I must do," said Genus with a tired voice as he leaned back in the chair.

To many it may have seemed weird that he was having a philosophical conversation with a mind reading Hat, but Harry was able to take the oddness in stride.

However, the tiredness quickly disappeared from Genus. He sat up suddenly, seeming to have realised something important since a large grin spread across his clothed mouth.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye for now, Harry. Do remember to visit me when you have finished your Occlumency training. Speaking to you and getting past your defenses has been the most fun I've had in centuries," Genus practically jumped to his feet before Harry could comment.

He found himself once again sitting on the stool in the Great Hall with the brim of the hat over his eyes. Everything was quiet as everyone waited for Genus to announce his House.

"I have been waiting a long time to say this. Better be…Peverell!"

The silence lasted for another five seconds before all hell broke loose.

XXX

 **So a little more detail about how Harry's Occlumency defences works this time around, I hope you liked it. I thought the model of the Maze would be an interesting/funny way for Harry to control it, and the Lego was just a little fun on my part that worked in nicely.**

 **Also decided to put Harry into the house I planned to put him in originally, though before I was going to have him out in it his second year I realised there wasn't much point waiting.**


	4. Settling In

**Ok so a lot of people agree that the major problem with his fic so far is that I need a Beta, so I am officially asking if anyone would be willing to help me out. I would however like to point out that this will make updates slower.**

 **They would be slowing down in a few chapters anyway when I catch up to where the original fic had gotten to anyway but whatever. If you are interested and willing to put the time in PM me and we will see what happens.**

 **Enjoy :)**

XXX

Disclaimer: I own nothing :(

XXX

 **Beta:** alexis. metoyer. 1

XXX

Chapter 4- Settling In

XXX

The Headmaster's office was…odd.

There was no other way to describe it as far as Harry was concerned. There was a collection of moving paintings hanging on the back wall, shelves of unnamed and unusual items, as well as a desk full of moving…things that gave off different coloured smoke. There was also an empty perch with a tray filled with ashes standing to the left of a large ornate desk. The desk was made from a soft brown wood, inlaid with a gold, curling vine pattern.

And sitting behind it was perhaps the oddest thing of all.

Albus Dumbledore, a legend among Wizards of the current age, was dressed in pink and yellow striped robes with a green pointed hat sitting atop his head. He sat with a china cup in his hand full of tea and a grandfatherly smile upon his lips, and his eyes seemed to twinkle as they stared into his own. The brighter blue eyes locked onto Harry's usually named 'Avada Kedavra' green eyes- which sometimes were met with a flinch at the thought of the Killing Curse.

After the feast, Harry had been brought to the office along with McGonagall, the short Professor he know knew as Flitwick, a plump, but kind woman named Sprout, and the bat-like man, Snape. They were apparently the heads of the four houses, each one representing their own for this supposed meeting on what to do with him.

The Sorting Hat was sitting on a high shelf to his right, seemingly unmoving again as the five adults talked as if he was not in the room with them. It turned out that Harry had been placed in a house that didn't exist; it was named after an old family that a lot of people were not happy to be reminded of. Harry also found it funny that despite the fact all four Professors were throwing questions at the Headmaster, none of them actually waited for him to answer before asking another.

This continued for several minutes before Harry finally had enough.

"Are you old coots done talking about me as if I'm deaf and dumb, or would you like to keep going for another few minutes and continue to ignore me?" asked Harry blandly.

That got the attention of all five of the adults.

McGonagall looked resigned, having already dealt with him and his attitude before. Both Flitwick and Sprout seemed to be shocked speechless, their mouths wide open and eyes slightly widened. Dumbledore was merely smiling at him as if he had been waiting for Harry to speak those exact words from the start. The biggest reaction came from Snape, who turned his glare from the wall straight to Harry with a sneer on his lips.

"How dare you speak to us in such a manor, you spoiled, rude little-"

Harry irrupted him before he could get anymore steam going, "While I will admit to being rude, I can assure you that I have never been spoiled in my known memory. My relatives made sure of that with great pleasure, as they so often liked to tell me before locking me in a cupboard," Harry said this without any real emotion behind it.

His words seemed to have the desired effect of shutting the bat-like man up. His face suddenly took on a slightly confused expression before it was hidden behind a mask of indifference. He glanced out of the corner of his eyes to see the now even more shocked expressions of Sprout and Flitwick, and the saddened ones of McGonagall and Dumbledore.

After waiting a moment to make sure he would not be interrupted, Harry continued in the bored tone he was well known for.

"Anyway, why would I show respect to any of you when you have spent the last fifteen minutes arguing over me like I was a hunk of meat? You call me rude, which is true, yet do not see it in your own actions towards me. None of you have even explained what the big deal is about me being sorted into this…Peverell House," Harry pointed out as he crossed his arms.

The rattling of his chain seemed to also draw the attention to his book before Dumbledore cleared his throat and spoke,

"You are very right, my boy. I am sorry for not explaining things to you sooner. I think this is a conversation that is best given in private, though, Minerva, if you wouldn't mind waiting downstairs? I would like for you to take Mr. Potter to the empty classroom at the top of the third tower in the North-West section of the school. I am sure it will do well as a room until something more suitable can be found."

Though none of them looked happy about it, the four Professors each gave a small nod and left the room. The moment the door closed Dumbledore stood and moved to a bookcase on his right. Without pause, he pulled a large dusty book from the shelf and dropped it on the desk between them.

The title 'Magical Families of Old' was on the front in silver.

"I am sure you will have more than a few questions, Harry, and I ask for your patience while I attempt to give them to you. Please refrain yourself from interrupting." Dumbledore looked over his glasses at Harry with a smile and knowing look.

He waited for Harry to give a small nod before continuing.

"Good. Now, I believe the most pressing matter is who the Peverell family is and why their name unnerves people so much," the old Wizard continued as he opened to book and started flipping through the pages.

"The Peverell family is, or rather was, one of the oldest Magical families, and they can be dated back to the time of Merlin himself. Unfortunately, they died out long ago. There have been many theories over the years about how this happened; however, I myself am of the opinion that they simply changed their name at some point and went into hiding," Dumbledore explained, flipping pages one at a time.

Harry frowned at this, eyes narrowing at the preoccupied headmaster.

"If they were one of the old families, why would they change their name?" asked Harry.

"The Peverell Family was well known for many things- not all of them good. They were widely recognised as some of the brightest and best wizards that magic had to offer, and are directly responsible for the creation of many spells and magical objects that we still use today. In fact, Hogwarts itself would fall into that category. Which brings us to your sorting."

Looking up for a moment and seeing Harry's raised eyebrow, Dumbledore quickly explained, "While it is well known that Hogwarts School was the idea of Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, what is not widely known is the part that the Peverell Family played. A very large part might I add. They are the ones that built Hogwarts Castle; they are the ones that charmed its protections, and they are the ones that wrote the Laws of Hogwarts. While the Four Founders _created_ the school, the Peverell's were the architects that made it possible."

"What are the 'Laws of Hogwarts'?" Harry asked.

"The Laws of Hogwarts are just that- the laws of the school. While there are ways to work around some, most must be upheld. The Laws are tied into the wards themselves- tied to Hogwarts Castle itself, even- and to disobey them would have unknown consequences and pose the risk of the wards falling. As Headmaster, it is part of my responsibility to learn and uphold the laws at all costs."

"Why is this not in 'Hogwarts: A History', or any other books then? I have read that, as well as many other books, and have found no reference to the Peverell Family," Harry stated.

Dumbledore seemed to finally find the page he was looking for and turned the book to face Harry. Harry found himself looking at the Peverell name; however, what really caught his attention was the family crest under the name…the same one that was on his Grimoire.

But before could ask about it Dumbledore continued talking, "It is because many feared the Peverell Family- and still do to this day. Almost every member that carried Peverell blood in their veins was brilliant, powerful, and- in many cases- dangerous. They were well known for having little morality when it came to their research, caring only for results and their own interests. This created paranoia, the fear pushing people to be wary of them."

Harry frowned at what he was being told, finding many similarities between the long lost family and himself. It was then that his eyes once again fell to the page in front of him, or- more accurately- the images drawn beneath the family name.

"What do these images mean?" Harry asked.

Leaning over to see what he was referring to, Harry saw Dumbledore give a shrug that didn't look right at all coming from someone his age.

"It is the Peverell Family Crest; many of the old magical families have them. That winged horse is called a Thestral which is the Peverell family's…sacred animal. Again, many of the old magical families were known to have similar connections to animals both magical and not. The other image, however… I would ask you not to look into for now, not until you are older. It is a symbol connected to something very dangerous, and a truth I fear you are not ready to hear. Please do not go looking for it. I ask you this not as your headmaster, but as someone who knows what it means…and has suffered greatly because of it," said Dumbledore, his voice taking on a sad note at the end.

Harry was ready to lay into the man for telling him what to do, but something in his voice gave him pause and his eyes narrowed at the man. Clearly, whatever the symbol meant had something to do with his now discovered heritage, but also seemed to be dangerous. It was a mystery- a very tempting one at that- but maybe it was also one to solve when he was older and better equipped to defend himself.

After thinking it over for a moment, Harry gave a small nod before leaning back into his seat again. The Headmaster gave a grateful smile. However, Harry received a slightly confused look as the headmaster turned his attention back to the Crest for a moment. His eyes moved back to Harry,

"If I you do not mind my asking, Mr. Potter, what is your interest in the Crest?"

Not caring much either way, Harry lifted his Grimoire up so the Headmaster could see the front where the Peverell Family Crest lay in silver. He ignored the widening of the old wizard's eyes and stood to leave the room.

"I was just curious about it because it appeared on my Grimoire after I bonded with it. A connection to look into another time, I guess. I will see you in the morning Headmaster," Harry said on the way out without turning back.

When the door closed, there was a moment of silence. Dumbledore let out a small tired chuckle as he seemed to sink into his chair and a chain suddenly appeared on his right arm. The chain led to one of the books on his bookcase, and with a small tug from Dumbledore it came floating over into his hand.

"Things are going to be very interesting from now on, I am sure. I look forward to seeing your progress…Mr. Peverell," Dumbledore murmured as he opened his own Grimoire.

XXX

After his meeting with Dumbledore, Harry was led by McGonagall to the room that would be his temporary accommodations. It was at the top of a tower that required them to walk up a long staircase with several doors lining the wall on the left. His was the last at the very top.

Considering that it was supposed to be an unused room, Harry was surprised when the elder Witch opened the door. While not a lot in it, the room was spotless. There was four poster bed across from the door, a desk and chair set against the wall on his right, and four windows on different areas of the wall. The room itself was circular, though that wasn't surprising considering it was a tower.

It also already had his trunk at the foot of his bed.

Raising an eyebrow at the room, Harry turned a questioning look to McGonagall.

The older Witch just gave a sigh as she turned to leave, "The house elves prepared your room while you were talking with Professor Dumbledore, Mr. Potter. Now, I suggest you get some sleep. Breakfast is from 6-8am tomorrow morning, and you will be given two days to explore the castle before classes start. I suggest you use this time wisely," McGonagall stated as she closed the door behind her.

While he wasn't sure what a house elf was, Harry had an idea based on the name. Wizards seemed very unimaginative when it came to naming things.

Shaking his head at the thought, Harry walked over to his trunk and pulled out the key for one of the locks. With a loud click he lifted the lid open. Inside was a short, thin staircase that started from the left and went down to the right.

This compartment was where he stored all his miscellaneous items. It was basically a room three times the size of the room outside the trunk, with tall shelves lined next to each other. There was even a ladder for Harry to use to reach the higher shelves. Luckily, he already knew what he was looking for and had the forethought to leave it at the bottom of the stairs before leaving for Hogwarts.

Grabbing the wooden six foot tall perch with both hands, Harry struggled slightly to get it back up the stairs before closing the lid again. The sound of the lock clicking back into place quickly followed; that was something Harry had paid extra for. His trunk could be unlocked from the inside even if he didn't have the key; however, if someone was inside one of the rooms, none of the others could be opened even with a key.

Harry left the perch to the left of his bed before moving over to one of the windows. He took a moment to enjoy the night view of the castle and grounds before stepping back when a black blur came towards him. It was almost impossible to see in the dark sky, but Harry knew it was coming even without seeing it.

And true enough, a moment later Poe swooped in and gracefully landed on her perch.

After taking another minute to look outside, Harry closed the window and stretched his arms above his head while moving towards his bed.

"Night, Poe," he murmured and closed his eyes.

XXX

The next morning, Harry woke up at 6am and decided after taking a quick shower in the bathroom in his trunk to familiarize himself with the castle for a few hours. Then he would take the afternoon to finally practice his magic. He was out of the room by 6:30 with Poe happily perched on his shoulder, locking the door behind him with the key he found on his desk when he woke up.

He had forgone the school robes, having found a loophole that said he only needed to wear them at the welcoming feast, holiday feasts, and the end of year feast. Instead of the uniform, he wore a dark blue long-sleeved shirt and black jeans. He didn't bother with his red cap, seeing as everyone knew who he was now after the Sorting Ceremony. He was sure to get a few odd looks, and there was a chance a Professor might try and call him out on his clothing, but Harry didn't care.

Thankfully, he had already memorised the route he was led by last night, though it did take him the long way since it passed the Headmaster's office first. He passed no one on his way, most opting to sleep in on the first day.

Even when he arrived at the Great Hall, there were only a few students from each house; most of them being from Ravenclaw.

There were several Professors sitting at the head table, but the only ones he recognised were McGonagall and Flitwick. He did see Hagrid waving to him, and Harry wasn't surprised to see him up early since the large man was the grounds keeper.

Oddly enough, Harry also noticed that the Great Hall was slightly larger than it had been last night. This was probably to make room for the new fifth House Table that had been added in the middle of the other four. It was even the same size as the others, despite the fact that Harry would be the only one using it.

Harry made his way straight to the far end of the table near the Head Table. He didn't spare a glance for the people he passed before taking a seat and placing his Grimoire on the bench next to him. The same could not be said for them, unfortunately, since every head turned to follow him as he went by. It was really annoying, and he couldn't stop the small frown creeping onto his otherwise bored expression.

He did, however, notice several people's eyes moving between him and Poe instead of his forehead, but he chose to ignore it.

The moment he sat down at his table a golden plate appeared in front of him. It was then filled with several pieces of bacon, sausages, and a hardboiled egg with a piece of buttered toast. He was about to dig in when he felt a slight nudge in his head, making him pause.

It wasn't someone trying to read his mind- that much he was sure about- because it felt different from when Genus had gotten in and he also wasn't pulled in to confront anyone. This was more like something already there inside his mind that was just giving him a little poke to remind him it was.

He looked to Poe on his shoulder, the large Raven already staring at him. Harry wasn't sure how, but he somehow knew it was her that had sent him the nudge. Then after thinking about it for a moment, he realised that he understood what it meant.

Not taking his eyes off of Poe, he took a strip of bacon from his plate and held it out for her to take. She did, swallowing it in one go before letting out a small caw. Then he got another nudge in his mind, this one clearly giving off a sense of happiness and gratitude.

Interesting. So he and Poe were somehow linked mentally. He wondered if there was more to it or even a way to increase the connection somehow…this would require more thought and research.

Deciding to put those thoughts aside for the moment until he looked up what having a familiar meant, Harry turned back to his breakfast and started eating at a sedate pace.

Unsurprisingly, he was interrupted a moment later when three first years wearing the Slytherin colours walked over and stood in front of him. Two of them looked like they were half troll, and the smaller blond kid with his hair slicked back had an arrogant smirk on his face.

Harry chose to ignore them and continued eating while Poe kept an eye on the three of them from her perch on his shoulder. This went on for several minutes as the blonde boy seemed to get more and more agitated by the second.

Eventually, the blonde broke first and quickly returned to his arrogant expression, "So you're Harry Potter, aren't you? My father told me you would be coming this year. My name is Draco Malfoy," the now named Draco said this in a lofty manner, clearly trying to boast, though Harry wasn't sure what about.

The only answer Draco received was the sound of Harry's cutlery on his plate as he continued to eat. This only seemed to get further under the boy's skin.

"Did you hear me? I said I was a Malf-"

Harry smoothly interrupted him, "Heard you the first time, and didn't care then either. Now fuck off, I'm trying to eat, and your voice is getting on my nerves." Harry cut a piece of sausage before putting it in his mouth.

This seemed to leave Draco in shock for a moment before it turned into outright anger, his fists clenched and shaking at his side.

"You can't talk to me like that! I am a Pureblood, an elite of the Wizarding world. I deserve respect!" His voice became higher and louder as he continued, drawing more and more attention to themselves.

More people steadily trickled into the hall, but Harry still didn't look up from his meal. He waited until he swallowed the bite in his mouth before turning in his seat. He then did something that no one expected and which left many mouths gaping open in shock.

Picking up his Grimoire in one hand Harry actually threw it at the Malfoy Heir. He nailed him right in the face, knocking the blond boy off his feet and leaving a large book shaped red mark. There was even blood coming out of Draco's nose, but before any of it could get on the book Harry pulled it back with the chain connected to his arm. He used his hand to brush off imaginary dust before putting it back on the bench next to him.

He turned back to his meal before speaking, "I don't give a crap. I was raised by muggles and only learned about Magic about a month ago. I have no true concept of 'Pureblood', and neither do I care for one now. As for respect, why would I respect you? I don't know you, I've never met nor heard of you or your family before today, and you are not doing a good job of representing it. You have done nothing to earn my respect and therefore will not get it. If anything, at this point I find you pathetic. You come here and interrupt my meal and for what? to boast about your supposed superiority? You're nothing but an arrogant brat. A brat that will probably only ever use his family's name to get what he wants because he knows he is worthless as shit without it."

Harry said this all with a cool and bored tone, though he did keep an eye on Draco from the corner of his eye. Even from his new position on the floor with his nose bleeding, every point Harry made caused Draco to flinch slightly and his eyes to widen like a deer in the headlights. It turns out that reading all those books on Psychology was useful after all.

"Now, if you would be so kind as to fuck off, I am still eating."

The boy obviously wasn't as stupid as Harry had first thought, because he had enough sense to retreat. Harry didn't miss Thing 1 and Thing 2 taking a step towards him with their fists ready and scowls on their faces, but they were both stopped by Draco and left without another word. He doubted it would be the last he saw of the boy, though. Draco seemed too arrogant to let Harry's words get to him for long.

When he finished his food, Harry didn't stick around for the Hall to fill completely. Without looking at anyone, he quickly left, deciding that his first task of the day was to find a faster route from his room to the Great Hall.

XXX

By the afternoon Harry decided that Hogwarts was an interesting place, which was something he didn't say about many things…at least, before all this magic stuff, anyway.

Between the living portraits, moving staircases, ever changing corridors, trick doors, and secret passages, it was impossible to work out regular routes. He had been led in circles, ended up at three dead ends, and at one point he had been bitten by a doorknob that didn't want to be opened.

It was all very interesting, although it was odd and pointless from a school perspective.

Then again, he supposed it would work as a kind of defence if anything or anyone wanted to cause harm to the students. When the school was originally built, it was a time when Magic was not hidden so well and those without it had persecuted those with it. It was entirely possible that the Peverell Family had added all these little tricks and turns to defend against an invading force by sowing confusion.

It was subtle, but effective. Harry approved.

He was already making plans to draw up a map as a side project, though it would probably take a while to fully map out the castle. It would definitely be a challenge; Harry was looking forward to it.

He had already found two hidden passageways.

One was hidden behind an old tapestry on the second floor and conveniently led to the bottom of his tower. The other he found while exploring the dungeons. When he had tripped and grabbed a torch bracket to steady himself, a door appeared in front of him that led to the Entrance Hall.

It was actually all a little confusing to him, so he wondered how normal students were supposed to find their way around the maze that was Hogwarts. Eventually, he decided that there was no point in trying to familiarise himself with the castle layout for the moment, so instead made his way back to his room.

Without pausing in his stride, Harry knelt down in front of his chest and took out one of the keys. He heard the usual click of the lock and opened the lid before climbing down and pulling it shut behind him.

This compartment was his training room. It was rather bare compared to the others, and it was mostly just a large empty space with nothing overly breakable. There were targets set up against the back wall, along with several dummies in dark robes that vaguely resembled humans that Harry assumed were supposed to be 'Dark Wizards'. They had been included in the package, so Harry didn't really care either way.

There were also several different sized cubes piled up in the corner. Some were made from wood while others looked to be metal and very heavy. Harry grabbed a wooden cube about the size of an apple and placed it on the floor in the middle of the room before stepping back.

Like all the compartments, with the exception of the Storage and Stasis room, there was a wooden perch set just inside the room for Poe to sit on, which she did the moment he moved to stand in the middle of the room.

Taking his Grimoire from under his arm, Harry held the book in his right hand and opened it, flipping through pages until he found the one he was looking for. Eventually he would be able to cast spells without even opening the Grimoire, but it was the equivalent of casting a spell nonverbally; therefore, it would take time and practice.

The page itself held a slight glow, not strong to light a room, but enough that Harry would be able to read it in the dark without straining his eyes. Holding out his left hand towards the cube, Harry took a moment to brace himself- after all, this was going to be the first actual spell he cast. He didn't want it to blow up in his face.

"Wingardium Leviosa," Harry said in a strong and clear tone, making sure he pronounced the spell correctly.

The chain gave off a very faint glow as the weak spell was cast, and the cube slowly lifted into the air before coming to a stop eye level with Harry.

Where most kids his age would be delighted at casting their first spell, Harry showed no outward sign of accomplishment. After all, it was a very simple spell and was very limited. All it could do was lift things up or down, not move them around. That was more advanced, yet was still considered a basic spell.

After holding the spell for a full minute to be sure he had it right, Harry stopped supplying the power and the cube dropped to the floor with a dull thud.

Without looking at the cube, Harry started flipping through pages again before stopping a moment later and once again holding out his arm.

"Flopendo," he said.

Again, the chain glowed faintly, but only for second before a small ball of pale blue light shot from Harry's hand and hit the cube. However, instead of sending it flying back like he wanted it to, it only pushed it an inch before stopping.

Frowning at his lack of success, Harry turned back to the page he was using for the spell before realising what he did wrong.

"Flipendo," Harry said again.

This time, when the chain started to glow, Harry held onto the spell and let it build up instead of just sending it straight off. He could actually feel the pressure building up as the chain's glow got stronger and stronger. Sweat was starting to build on his brow and he began to struggle with holding the spell.

When he finally couldn't hold the spell back anymore, Harry let it go.

When the spell hit the cube, it definitely moved more than an inch. As if shot from a cannon, the cube flew across the room where it exploded into splinters once it hit the magically reinforced wall. Blinking slowly, he walked over to look at the pile of splinters. Harry once again frowned as he looked back at the page.

It seemed some spells were more tricky then others to control. He needed to teach himself how to judge the right amount of power to put into a spell, it seemed. Too little, and practically nothing happened; too much, and he risked damaging either himself or the things around him.

This was going to take some time.

XXX

 **Hope you liked it :)**

 **There was a scene in there where the idea was given to me in a Review by 'Zangoules', he/she knows what it was ;)**


	5. How to Show up a Teacher

**I now have a Beta. They are currently working through the old chapter and trying to fix my mistakes.**

 **There are two or three more chapters before things will slow down so I will post them and my Beat will hopefully be able to sort through them. After that I will be having them beta any new chapters before posting them.**

 **Also just a heads up there is a part in this chapter that might be a 'trigger' (I think that is what people call it) for some people. It is just a reference to when Harry was still in Muggle education but I understand some people might have an issue with it. If this is the case I am sorry bit it just fit in with how I think some people would react to being around a kid so much smarter then them.**

Enjoy :)

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 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing :(

XXX

 **Beta:** alexis. metoyer. 1

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Chapter 4- How to Show up a Teacher

XXX

Harry didn't leave his room the next day, only moving from one compartment of his trunk to another while Poe kept watch for him. He didn't notice that he hadn't eaten since the day before, or that he was hungry at all. All he did was read his books, practice his spells, make potions, and add new spells to his Grimoire.

It was very relaxing.

There were no annoying children trying to talk to him, or adults complaining about his attitude problems. It was just Harry, Poe, and his work.

However, the next day would be the start of the School term, and as much as he wanted to stay in his room to continue his self-study, Harry knew if he stayed someone would be sent to find him. So with Poe once again perched on his shoulder, he made his way down to the Great Hall for 7:30 am after getting some last minute practice in.

Unlike the last time he had been there, the Hall was full by the time he arrived. He saw the eyes of the students following him as he walked to his table; he heard the muttering and whispers. Did they actually think he was deaf? It was like they weren't even trying to hide the fact that they were talking about him.

Just one more reason why he hate children. Muggle or Magical, it seemed they were all the same. When he was in Muggle education, he was talked about because he was better than everyone else- even when compared to people far older than him. Here, it was because he was famous without knowing it; famous for something his parents had probably done when he was a baby. How would they react when they found out he was already two years ahead academically?

He kept his eyes forward as he walked, laughing inside his head when he noticed Poe glaring at anyone that openly stared at him for too long. Honestly, sometimes it was like the raven was his mother… it wasn't a bad feeling.

When he reached the table, there was a sheet of paper already waiting for him by his seat. After a quick glance, Harry realized it was his timetable.

8am-11am - Potions X 2 (Ravenclaw & Hufflepuff & Peverell)

11:10am-12:10pm – History of Magic (Gryffindor & Slytherin & Peverell)

12pm-1pm – Lunch

1pm-2:30pm – Transfiguration (Hufflepuff & Gryffindor & Peverell)

2:35pm-3:35pm – Herbology (Slytherin & Gryffindor & Peverell)

3:45pm-5pm – Charms (Ravenclaw & Gryffindor & Peverell)

Considering he was the only member of the Peverell House, it seemed a little pointless to add the name to the timetable. He was only joining other classes anyway, so it didn't really matter one way or another.

The main difference between today and the rest of the week was that he only had History of Magic today. The rest of the week was Defence Against the Dark Arts with Hufflepuff and Slytherin, as well as Astronomy Friday night with Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. There were other variations of the same classes, but always with the same houses.

At least he only had two classes to deal with the Gryffindor/Slytherin rivalry, one being History, so they wouldn't have a chance to be throwing spells at each other. It seemed because he wasn't in any of the four houses, they were trying to have him interact with each. Though there was a noticeable lean towards Gryffindor.

He suspected Dumbledore had been the one to plan that. While not knowing him well, the old wizard struck Harry as the sort that thought it important to be around people and make friends. A shame, really, because from what he had heard and read, the man was brilliant. If he didn't waste his time on other people, who knew what else he would have achieved by this point? Forcing him to interact with one of the most open and emotionally driven Houses was clearly an attempt to get Harry to open up more.

After taking his seat, Harry instantly took one of the pieces of bacon that had appeared with his plate and offered it to Poe. She gave a small caw and took it straight away before he started eating himself. As he was eating, Harry idly noticed that the plate seemed to be filled with things he was craving or wanted, so he resolved to find out how it worked later.

When he was done, Harry left without a word and quickly made his way towards the dungeon. After asking a painting for directions to the classroom, he discovered that the secret passageway he found the first day actually took him to a corridor away from where he was going.

Harry also wondered why a school would need a dungeon, but wasn't really bothered by it. He assumed it was only a dungeon in name, and was actually the castle's foundations along with an emergency escape/hiding area in case of an attack.

Despite the torches on the walls casting light into the otherwise pitch darkness, the dungeons were very cold and damp. Harry was forced to walk around several puddles that had formed from drips in the roof, and the walls seemed to have a thin layer of slime coating them. There was also the smell of mold thick in the air, even though he couldn't actually see any.

Clearly, the dungeons extended under the Black Lake. This only helped to prove his theory that there were escape tunnels that led away from Hogwarts hidden somewhere. Why else would the dungeons branch out so far from the castle?

He felt Poe shifting on his shoulder slightly, the Raven's head moving in every direction as if keeping watch for an attack. Not that Harry could blame her; the entire atmosphere was a horror movie waiting to happen. Harry honestly wouldn't be surprised if someone jumped out from around a corner with a butcher's knife screaming bloody murder.

When he finally reached his destination, he found that he was the first person to arrive. The empty classroom was very quiet without anyone else there. Each empty table seemed big enough to seat three people and still have room for a cauldron, as well as some space to work with ingredients without getting in anyone else's way. Harry had a bad feeling that this meant they would be forced to work together. At the front of the room was a large blackboard with a desk next to it for the Professor; which currently had several piles of parchment on it. The walls were also lined with cabinets filled with every kind of Potion ingredient possible- all of them bottled and ready for use.

After taking a quick look around, he moved to take a seat at a table at the very back right corner of the room. He pulled out a notebook and pen before placing them on the table in front of him, his level 4 Potions book in his hand as he read.

As the other students started to arrive, none seemed to notice his presence in the corner. They all moved to sit with the new friends they had made over the last few days since arriving. When the trickle of bodies stopped, Harry looked up from his book to do a quick headcount and smirked when he saw that there was an odd number, meaning he didn't have to work with someone else.

It was at that moment that the classroom doors were thrown open and Snape came into the room, his robes billowing behind him as he walked straight for his desk. He turned to face the now silent classroom with a sneer on his lips and his eyes seemed to instantly find Harry's half lidded and bored gaze at the back of the room.

Harry was half expecting for the man to try and call him out on his lack of robe, seeing as he was dressed in a black shirt and blue jeans, but instead he turned his attention to the whole class and began to speak.

"There will be no foolish wand waving, or silly incantations in this class. As such, I doubt many of you will be able to appreciate the art that is Potions making, or grasp its true potential. In this room I can teach you to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses; I can teach you to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death. That is assuming you are better than the usual dunderheads I have to deal with each year, which I highly doubt…" Snape said with an annoyed tone in his voice.

His words seemed to have the desired effect on the students, having grabbed their attention up until the end.

For his part, Harry actually found himself agreeing with the man in some respect. From what he had read and the few potions he had brewed, they seemed to be very volatile as well as versatile- wizards had a potion for almost everything.

While the man was speaking, Poe had jumped from his shoulder and landed on the table in front of him. Harry had started running a finger along her neck idly as he leaned his head on the other hand with his elbow on the desk. The book had he been reading was face down on the empty seat next to him.

Poe's movement seemed to draw Snape's attention, and his eyes moved from the raven to Harry himself several times before locking onto Harry.

"Mr. Potter, our new…celebrity…" Snape said with a sneer.

Harry showed no other sign that he was listening other than moving his eyes from Poe to Snape, his eyelids still drooped. This only seemed to get under the man's skin even more.

"What is that bird doing in my classroom?" asked Snape.

"There are no rules against her being here, Professor. Poe simply wanted to stay with me. Is that a problem?" He knew the man didn't have any right to force him to send Poe away, and if he pushed to do so, Harry would just start spouting Hogwarts' rules until Snape gave up. Things like that usually worked to get adults to shut up- from what Harry had seen, anyway.

Harry waited for a moment as the man seemed to be trying to think of a way to get to him or to send Poe away, only for him to take a different route instead. A route that the man had no chance of winning.

"Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?" asked Snape with a smirk, clearly thinking he would catch Harry off guard by the suddenness of the question.

"The stomach of a goat," Harry stated blandly, as if it were obvious. The fact that there was no pause between the question and Harry's answer seemed to throw the man off, but to his credit, he recovered quicker than most others that had tried this with Harry in the past.

"What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape rattled off, the smirk now gone.

"Nothing. They are the same plant," Harry answered without missing a beat.

"What is the key ingredient in the Boil Cure Potion?" snapped Snape. It was obvious that he was starting to lose his temper.

"Horned Slugs."

Bored once again, Harry turned his attention back to Poe. Snape continued in a calmer voice, "What is the brewing duration of the Polyjuice Potion?" Harry actually looked up at the man again before answering, and he saw that Snape's eyes were now narrowed.

"One Lunar cycle, or a month in layman's terms."

"What is the key ingredient in the Draught of Living Death?"

"Mandrake Root soaked in the water that was used to boil a Belladonna flower."

"What is the brewing duration of the Wolfsbane Potion, and how can it be shortened?"

"12 lunar cycles, or one year in simple terms. This is because it needs to be left in the light of the full moon 12 times for 1 hour while the moon is at its peak. This can be reduced to a period of 12 days by adding one Moonstone each night at midnight for the said twelve days, which replicates the 12 full moons it needs to mature. However, by doing this the Potion has been proven to be less effective. Unlike the yearlong brewed potion that can last for a year before spoiling and can be brewed in large quantities, the shorter brewed Potion only lasts for a month before spoiling with only enough for four size 3 Vials. This would get a single werewolf through the four days of 1 lunar cycle in which the moon is strong enough to force them to change," answered Harry, going into extra detail to prove a point.

By this point, every head in the classroom was moving back and forth between Harry and Snape with their mouths getting lower and lower by the second. He could see a few Ravenclaws rapidly flicking through their Potions book with confused expressions while they looked for the answers. Harry knew for a fact that the last three questions were not in there.

Two of the questions had been in the grade 3 Potion book, and the last was in the Grade 4 he was currently reading. He wasn't sure if Snape was testing him, or just trying to catch him out on a question, but after the last one where Harry had gone into extreme detail, he seemed too shocked to think of anything more to ask him.

Without another word Snape turned away from Harry and waved his wand at the backboard, the instructions for the Boil Cure Potion appearing in white chalk.

"You will have until the end of the lesson to complete the Potion on the board; try not to melt your cauldrons before then," Snape called in a slightly distracted voice as he sat behind his desk.

The rest of Potions had been quiet for Harry. The other students were busy concentrating while Snape kept sending him odd looks as if unsure what to think. After practising so much before even arriving at Hogwarts, the Boil Cure Potion was nothing to him, and he was able to brew it without even paying attention.

This turned out to be a good thing because when one of the Hufflepuffs at the table in front of him almost added his ingredients in the wrong order, Harry was about to stop him before the cauldron exploded. A bastard he may be, but Harry wasn't going to do nothing and let the guy get covered in boils because he didn't know what he was doing. Especially when he was in the possible splash zone.

He had also seen a few Ravenclaws working to try and keep up with him, eyes darting from their own potions to his regularly. Hopefully, they would learn quickly not to compete with him; he didn't want a repeat of…that incident.

A few years ago while Harry was in Muggle education, there had been a girl in one of his classes named Mary Green. She was 17, with above average intelligence and quite used to being the smartest person in the room. Unfortunately, she was also an over-achiever and very competitive- and then Harry was thrown into the equation. He had outdone her in everything without effort, and since he was younger and smarter and nothing she did had helped close the gap between them, she had eventually snapped under the pressure and tried to kill herself.

It was one of the only things Harry could honestly say he regretted happening. It was actually what had driven him to study Behavioural Psychology in the first place; he wanted to try and avoid something like that happening again. Harry would need to keep a close eye on the Ravenclaws in case any started to show signs of cracking.

He finished his potion with time to spare and poured some into a size 2 vial before taking it to the front of the class. Snape took one look at it and frowned before telling him to clean his cauldron and leave.

Harry didn't wait to be told twice.

XXX

After his first lesson of History of Magic, Harry had come to the conclusion that he was going to learn nothing from attending the class and that his time would be better spent doing almost _anything_ else. The ghost teaching it, Professor Binns, had only repeated word for word the exact paragraphs in the first year history book. He didn't even take attendance.

Most of the class had fallen asleep listening to his dull droning voice, and the few that stayed awake like himself had looked bored to tears. In fact, the only people that had been able to stay awake besides him were Hermione and two Slytherins; a blonde girl named Daphne and a dark skinned boy named Blaise.

At least that Draco prat didn't try and approach him again. He seemed to be keeping his distance for the moment. Harry was amused to see he still had an imprint of his Grimoire on his face. He was, however, forced to listen to a red headed Gryffindor boy named Ron talk about Quidditch until he fell asleep, followed by his loud snoring.

After the first twenty minutes, Harry had pulled a book out and started reading, seeing no point in listening to a ghost repeat the words from a book he had already read.

At least he had Transfiguration to look forward to next. Even if the subject seemed to have little to no use in real life, it would be fascinating to learn. After all, the changes you made with a spell were only temporary without Runes added to lock them in, and even then it only worked on non-living things.

He somehow ended up with Hermione and Neville tagging along with him when he left the Great Hall to make his way to the classroom. Although, at least the girl seemed to have learned not to talk his ear off about stupid things by this point. Instead of telling him about what she knew from reading the books on Transfiguration, she asked him about several things she wasn't sure about.

It seemed to him that the girl had given up trying to compete with him before really starting, which was for the best. Now she was trying to use him as a sound board to help herself, something he didn't actually mind so long as she didn't do it while he was reading or ask stupid questions.

Neville, for the most part, was just listening to them without comment.

Hermione was actually in the middle of asking him a question as they walked into the room, all three taking a seat near the front of the class. None of them noticed the cat sitting on the front desk watching them intently.

"I still don't understand why size always needs to be considered before a transfiguration. The books I read didn't really go into much detail, so I assumed it was covered in a later year?" Hermione asked as she put her books on the table.

"You're right- it is covered briefly in the second year curriculum along with explaining why it is pointless to transfigure food from other objects. The reason you need to consider size before a transfiguration is because you can only 'stretch' the object you are changing so much before it is unable to get any bigger," Harry explained. "For example, you can change a matchstick into a pin because they are the same size, but if you tried to turn it into a chair it wouldn't work because the object is too small."

"But then what if you worked your way up? Turn a chair into something slightly bigger, then change it again and again until it is the size you want?" asked Hermione.

"It still wouldn't work because you still only have the matter that makes up the chair to work from, regardless of the size you change it to. Think of it as an elastic band; you can only stretch it so far before it either snaps back or breaks. However, contrary to this, you can transfigure a larger object into something smaller without restriction, but it takes more power," Harry said.

Hermione had a slight frown on her face but seemed to understand what he was saying.

"I guess that makes sense…the more strain you put on the object the more it will fight the spell," she said more to herself than Harry.

"Correct. Although, there is also a spell based in charms that can affect the size and mass of an object without limits on the base material. Which is why if you enlarge an object before you attempt to transfigure it into something else, it will work, but the effects of the spell are shorter and require more power to accomplish."

After that, the two fell silent as Harry started getting his things out and Hermione mulled over what she had been told. Neville just looked very confused about the whole conversation and seemed to decide to just sit quietly and wait for McGonagall to arrive.

It was while he was doing this that Harry took notice of the tabby cat staring at him. Narrowing his eyes as Poe shifted slightly on his shoulder, his head tilted to the side slightly as he examined the feline. A small smirk crossed his lips.

"Hello, Professor. I almost didn't recognise you in that form," Harry said with his eyes locked onto the cat.

"Harry, who are you- whoa!" started Neville, only to cut off mid-sentence when the cat jumped off of the desk and changed into McGonagall mid-air. The elder witch landed on her feet gracefully before moving to stand in front of their desk.

Her face had an expression of curiosity and slight confusion as she looked at Harry, as if trying to understand something.

"Well done for noticing me, Mr. Potter. 20 points for noticing, and another 20 for explaining Size Theory in Transfiguration to Miss Granger. However, I must ask how you were able to do such a fine job of explaining a second- bordering on third- year subject to Miss Granger? Or how you recognised me for that matter?" asked McGonagall in her usually stern voice.

His face was still set in its usual bored expression as he shrugged and pulled another book out of his bag to hand to McGonagall. She accepted it without question, and it was about two seconds later after she looked at the title that her eyes widened slightly. She turned to face him again with a frown.

"Why exactly do you have a Grade 3 Transfiguration book, Mr. Potter?" she asked in a slightly less stern, but far more confused voice.

"I bought it, along with several others, while at Diagon Alley. After reading the Grade 1 and 2, it seemed like the next logical step," Harry answered with a shrug.

"And you understood it all?"

"Yes. While the idea of converting one object to another seemed an impossibility to me at first, I soon found the subject interesting enough to look deeper into," Harry said. "Transfiguration, while limited in its uses outside of most fields, is an interesting study on its own considering how many laws of Nature it breaks. Once I understood the base concept of the magic itself, the spells and terminology were simple enough to follow."

For a moment, the Professor seemed to be debating something inside her own head before reluctantly handing him the book back, "Indeed…we will see if you are as skilled in practice as you appear to be in theory, Mr. Potter." Without another word, McGonagall turned to address the whole class, a wave of her wand sending matchsticks floating to land on the tables in front of them as she spoke,

"Transfiguration is a complicated subject and can be very dangerous if used improperly," she began. "I will only give you one warning: if I see any students misbehaving in my class, you will be out of it altogether. Do I make myself clear?" Her eyes moved to stare each student down for them all to acknowledge her statement before she continued,

"Now, I am assuming that all of you have at least read the first two chapters of your Transfiguration book from the assigned reading list you received with your Hogwarts letter, which would explain the matchsticks currently sitting in front of you. By the end of this lesson I expect you all to have been able to make at least some progress into turning your match into a needle. While I do not expect all of you to be able to complete the spell, some should at least be capable of changing the shape, even if not the material." She then went into a brief explanation of the wand movements and how to pronounce the spell properly, answering any questions asked before motioning them to try the spell.

Harry could only sigh in boredom, having already practiced everything from the first year book. The 1st year at Hogwarts seemed to be mostly built on theoretical learning, with only a few spells to get them used to casting. This meant that there wasn't much to practice, and Harry had been able to cast most of the spells he would be learning that year.

There was also the fact that unlike the others in his class, Harry did not have a Wand, but a Grimoire. This meant that while the words themselves were the same, Harry did not need the wand movements, but the Arithmancy instead. This was basically the magical equivalent of muggle physics.

While taking his time turning the pages in his Grimoire to the correct spell, Harry picked up his needle in his left hand and held it in front of his face. Concentrating on what he wanted the matchstick to change into, he then spoke the spell clearly.

The glow from the chain was barely noticeable this time, considering how little magic it took to power the spell. In one fluid movement, the matchstick in his fingers shifted into a perfect needle that he then dropped onto the desk without a care.

Ignoring the gasp from his right that Hermione gave off when she saw this, as well as Neville's wide eyes and open mouth, Harry opened his Transfiguration Grade 3 book and started reading.

Unfortunately, this only lasted for less than a minute before McGonagall returned after hearing Hermione gasp. The stern woman frowned slightly at the sight of the needle in front of him. With a wave of her wand it returned to a matchstick and her voice cut across his reading, forcing him to pay attention to what she was saying.

"Mr. Potter, please repeat the spell; I would like to see you cast it with my own eyes," the professor said.

Seeing as his Grimoire was still open to the right page, Harry shrugged and brought his book down before taking the matchstick again and speaking the spell. The matchstick once again shifted into a needle.

This only seemed to cause McGonagall's frown to deepen slightly, "You have done this spell before, haven't you Mr. Potter?" It was more of a statement than anything, but Harry replied without care anyway.

"You gave us two days before classes started; I spent half of the first day wandering the castle and the rest practicing."

"I see…and just how many spells have you 'practiced'?" asked the stern witch with narrowed eyes.

"I have almost finished the first year spell work since most of it is theoretical," Harry stated. "There wasn't much to practice. Second year should not take long as it is also mostly theoretical, but third year will probably take more time. That has more of the practical aspects of spell work."

He gave another small shrug, his voice remaining the same flat tone the whole time. Harry did take note of McGonagall's expression before it was hidden again behind her usual stern face, though her eyes still showed her shock. It was the same reaction his teachers usually gave when they started to realise he wasn't a normal child- a mix of shock and slight wonder.

He had to give the old witch credit though, she was better at hiding it than most.

Clearing her throat slightly, McGonagall seemed to shake off her reaction completely, "I see…Mr. Potter, for now you may either continue to read or help your fellow students until the end of the lesson. And another 10 points for getting the spell right the first time." She turned away and made her way to a different part of the classroom to offer her help to another student.

Closing his Grimoire, Harry was about to start reading his Grade 3 Transfiguration book again when Hermione finally seemed to snap out of her shock, immediately bombarding him with questions, her own work forgotten for the moment.

"How did you do that?" she asked, Neville leaning over slightly to hear his answer, too.

Harry just let out a sigh and put his book down, realising that he was unlikely to be able to read it until he answered her questions.

"It's called 'magic'. I used a spell," Harry stated dryly.

"You didn't even use a wand! That's not possible, you need a wand to cast spells!" Hermione exclaimed, her words getting more and more distressed as she went on.

"Actually, you're wrong about that. You don't need a wand, per say, you just need a Magical Focus to help shape your magic into a form where it can be manipulated. I use a Grimoire instead of a wand," Harry explained as he held up said Grimoire in one hand and waved it in front of her face.

Her eyes followed its movement for a moment before she turned her attention back to Harry himself, "If that is true, then why have I never heard of it? Mr. Ollivander never said anything about using something other than a wand to use magic," she asked in a calmer tone.

Harry just raised an eyebrow at her before picking his book back up, sensing that the conversation was drawing to an end. "Did you ask him about alternatives?" asked Harry instead of answering.

Hermione didn't have any way to respond and instead turned back to her matchstick with renewed determination.

XXX

 **Hope you liked the chapter :)**

 **R &R :)**


	6. The Unholy Alliance is Born!

**Just a head up this chapter is not really any different than the original, much like the last chapter. Didn't see much point in changing it. Next chapter will probably be the same before I get to new stuff.**

 **Enjoy :)**

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Disclaimer: I own nothing :(

XXX

 **Beta:** alexis. Metoyer. 1

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Chapter 6- The Unholy Alliance is Born!

XXX

It was quickly becoming obvious to Harry that Wizard school held almost as much use to him as Muggle School, and he was already getting bored. He was learning far more on his own than in classes, and it seemed the Professors didn't know what to do with him. The fact that he didn't use a wand was no help either.

Potions was ok (even if Snape seemed to have something personal against him) because he found the process relaxing, and it was a good way to sneak a bottle or two of whatever potion for his personal stores. He would still make other, more advanced Potions in his own Lab, but either way, it was still good practice.

He had already decided that he was never going to set foot in another History of Magic class that involved Professor Binns. It was a waste of time, and since the ghost didn't even bother to take names at the start of class, he doubted he would be missed.

Transfiguration wasn't looking all that promising, either, even if McGonagall was a good enough teacher. If nothing else, she had definitely noticed he was different; although stern, Harry thought she might have realised why he seemed so bored. At least she allowed him to read after he finished the lesson early, even if she had clearly wanted him to help the others in the class.

Herbology was much the same, however, Professor Sprout seemed- for the most part- unaware of him as of yet. He didn't try to answer any of her questions, and the lesson had been a simple introduction and explanation of the sort of plants they would be working with that year. He had noticed Neville come out of his shell a little while talking about plants. The shy boy had even answered several questions, all correctly, throughout the lesson.

In fact, Harry wondered if the boy might have a better knowledge of the base subject than he did himself. The boy clearly had years of experience with plants before even coming to Hogwarts, and Harry had seen the light in his eyes when he answered questions.

He wasn't too sure what to think of Charms yet, though it had more potential than the other classes he had been to so far. Like in Transfiguration, Flitwick had given them a short speech about the dangers of his class before setting them to do a spell. He watched them work after explaining the spell in more detail than the book gave.

It had only been a simple colour changing charm, and Harry had once again finished it on his first try- much to the joy of the short Professor- and changed his cloth to blue before turning it back. However, instead of asking him to help the other students, or simply letting Harry read his book, Flitwick had started asking him to do other spells.

The short professor had seemed fascinated by his Grimoire and had been asking questions about how it worked while also making notes of his own and helping the entire class. By the end of the lesson, Flitwick was practically bouncing on his stack of books with a large smile on his face.

By the time he had finished his classes for the day and sat down for dinner at his table, word seemed to have spread throughout the entire school that he was some kind of prodigy. Personally, Harry had never liked the word, never seeing a point in labelling himself just because he was smarter than other people.

He had met several supposed prodigies throughout his Muggle education and found the only real use he had for them was the fun he had in breaking them down. Sure, there had been one or two that had been ahead of him, but they had also been adults and had more years of experience over him while also specialising in one or two particular fields. Even then, they had seen that he would surpass them before long, and most had not seemed happy about it at all.

One physicist from America had started twitching when Harry had disproved the work he had apparently spent the last ten years working on; Harry had thought he was having an epileptic fit. It was some tall skinny guy named Cooper, or something.

Either way, the rumours seemed to have only increased the stares, something that Harry had not thought possible. That were even people that didn't even bother to look away and had continued to stare at him when he looked their way, much to his annoyance. He had even seen the professors sending him looks, leaning over to the person next to them and whispering.

It was like primary school, and every other school he had ever been to, all over again.

He also didn't miss the smile Dumbledore sent him, but ignored it in favour of his steak. By the end of dinner, Harry practically ran out of the Great Hall to get away from all the eyes and whispers, a deep frown on his face.

However, before he could get to his tower, Harry heard two sets of footsteps following him. When he turned to look, no one was there. Eyes narrowing, Harry focused for a moment to try and send Poe a mental nudge, and a moment later the Raven flew over and perched on the helmet of a suit of armour to his right. Harry carried on walking around a corner before he stopped and waited.

"Caw!"

"Holy-!"

"-Shit!"

It turned out that he didn't need to wait long, because not five seconds later the sound of Poe flying at whoever was following him reached his ears. This was followed shortly after by a pair of oddly identical voices swearing loudly.

Lifting his arm so that it was visible around the corner, Harry nodded his thanks to Poe as she landed on it so he could face his stalkers. He had to fight to keep a smirk away at the sight of twin, red-headed boys trying to clean off the Raven shit from their faces. They looked to be about a year or two older than Harry himself.

He waited for them to notice his presence, but when they continued to be oblivious, he cleared his throat. Both boys turned to look at him with expressions that made Harry think of a dear caught in the headlights, and they seemed to forget about the bird shit for a moment.

"Why are you following me?" asked Harry calmly.

To both of the boys' credit, they were able to quickly recover from their moment of shock and place rather large grins on their faces. Forgetting the shit completely, one of the boys stepped forward at the same time as his brother and held out a hand for Harry to shake. He idly wondered if they had practiced the gesture, because it was done in complete sync.

He made no move to take either of the offered hands, and simply stared at them as they began speaking, switching from one to the other,

"Hi, this is Fred-"

"-And he's George," Introduced the now identified Fred. "It's a pleasure to meet you," they said simultaneously, their grins seeming to only get wider.

"As well as your little shit throwing friend, who has remarkable aim by the way," said Fred.

"Almost perfect in fact. We didn't even see her until she was flying over our heads," George continued.

"Not a good moment to look up, as I am sure you can see." Fred absently seemed to remember the shit on his face and once again attempted to wipe it off with his sleeve. Harry blinked for a moment, unsure of what to think of the two. Poe puffed up with pride on his shoulder, apparently liking the strange compliments.

"Why were you following me?" Harry asked again.

Finally seeming to realise that he wasn't going to shake their hands, both once again moved to stand up straight, only for them to bow at the waist slightly. Their grins took on a mischievous glint.

"As we were saying before, he's Fred-"

"- and he's George-"

Both boys then bent at the waist and gave an exaggerated sweeping bow.

"We're known throughout Hogwarts-" said George,

"-Despite only being in our third year might I add?-" added Fred.

"-As the Red Headed Terrors!" exclaimed George proudly.

At Harry's bored look, they straightened and gave a small shrug.

"Basically-," said Fred,

"-we like to prank people."

"All people-,"

"Any people-,"

"As much as possible," both finished at the same time.

Letting out a sigh, Harry decided to try one more time before simply walking away from the twins.

"I will ask this one more time, why the _bloody_ hell are you _fucking_ following me?"

Both boys exchanged grins before turning back to Harry.

"Well, it's quite simple really," said Fred.

"You see, my dear brother and I have always been very good at judging people,"

"-assessing if they are worth pranking or not, you know-"

"-and you stand out- for several reasons- as someone not to prank."

"So, after talking it over with each other-" Fred said,

"We decided-" continued George,

"That if we aren't going to prank you, we should ask you to join us!" Fred shouted with his arms thrown wide for emphasis.

"-In the noblest art of mayhem and chaos, commonly known as pranking," Finished George with a small nod of his head as if it was a done deal.

As odd as it must have look, Harry couldn't help but turn to share a look with Poe for a moment before returning his attention to the twins.

"…you want me to join you in pranking people?" asked Harry for clarification, unsure if he had heard them right.

"Of course!" They both shouted at the same time again, both moving to stand on either side of Harry and throwing an arm over each of his shoulders.

"You could be our apprentice of mayhem!" George exclaimed.

"A fellow agent of chaos and enemy of order!" Fred added.

Harry wasn't sure why, but their words seemed to be striking a cord in his head. "Why?" he asked after remaining silent for a moment.

At this question, both boys lost their mischievous grins, having replaced them with matching looks of confusion while they looked at each other as if not sure themselves.

"You know, I don't really know why…" said Fred.

"Just seemed like a good idea at the time, you know? Something fun," George hesitatingly explained.

The moment didn't last long, and when it was gone the grins were back and larger than ever.

"So, what do you say?" George asked.

"Think you can keep up with the masters?" teased Fred.

Stepping away from his sides they once again offered him their hands, and Harry seriously considered their offer for a moment before taking them at the same time.

Maybe this could be a new way of relieving the boredom?

XXX

Dumbledore sat at the head of the table with his fellow Professors before him, a smile on his face and a lemon drop in his mouth. It was the night of the first day of lessons, and as they did every year, they had gathered for a staff meeting to discuss anything that may have come up. Normally, they would meet once a week on a Sunday, but Dumbledore liked to have an extra meeting at the beginning of the year to make sure that they were able to discuss everything that stood out.

Most of the time, what came up in the meeting was suspected child abuse from families, but it was open to other subjects too. And just like every year, the professors started with the 7th years and worked their way down.

To be honest, Dumbledore already knew what- or rather, _who_ \- they would be discussing when they arrived at the 1st years.

The old wizard was not too proud to admit that he had made a mistake by sending young Harry to live with his Aunt, even though he had had the best intentions at the time. Not only were there the blood wards to consider, but the fact remained that with his godfather in Azkaban and godmother a resident in the Permanent Care Ward at St Mungo's, there was simply nowhere else for the boy to go.

Of course there were plenty of families that would have gladly taken him in, but even then, for the first three years after the fall of Voldemort, Death Eaters had still been a very real threat to both Harry and every other wizard. Then there was his fame to be taken into account; no boy should grow up with something like that hanging over his head.

No, at the time his Aunt had seemed like the best option, and he had foolishly believed that the fact that they were family would be enough to trust her and her family with his care.

However, those thoughts had been destroyed the day Hagrid came to him after meeting the boy. He had described how the muggles were terrible; they had tried to stop him and McGonagall from meeting the boy, and he didn't even know he was a wizard. Dumbledore was also a little ashamed to have actually brushed the idea off at the time as Hagrid having had too much to drink again since the half giant was known to do so from time to time.

But when Minerva, one of his oldest and most trusted friends, returned the day after saying the same thing, it had hit him hard. Dumbledore had actually taken the time to Apparate to Privet Drive and see it with his own two eyes after waiting for the family to sleep. He had then spent an hour wondering the house.

The sight of that cupboard would weigh heavily on his heart for many years to come, he was sure. They hadn't even bothered to clean it from when Harry was forced to sleep in it. There had been a blood soaked blanket balled up on the floor and scratch marks on the inside of the door.

But it had only created a desire in him to learn more about the boy he had unknowingly condemned, which led him to look into Harry's muggle school records. What he had found was…incredible.

At the age of almost 11, Harry Potter was making plans to go to university! The boy was a genius: perfect scores in every test he had ever taken, and an IQ that apparently couldn't be accurately measured.

He excelled at everything and anything he did without effort and an air of boredom…but that was also the problem.

Dumbledore remembered what it was like for him in his youth when he was considered a genius. Although not even close to the same level as Harry, things had been so dull for him- most everything came so easy that it was hard to get excited about anything.

According to the files he had… _borrowed_ from the muggle schools, Harry was completely unmotivated. One file even diagnosed the boy as a sociopath, that he was unable to understand many basic human emotions with little to no desire to change that fact. While rarely violent, the boy had a sharp tongue and a short fuse. He cared nothing for manners and had no filter between his brain and his mouth, which would get him in trouble regularly.

Honestly, the boy reminded him of an even more brilliant version of himself when he was young, but with more of a mouth. This was a fact he had seen and heard for himself on the night the boy was in his office and actually had the nerve to berate the heads of house and he himself. He didn't hesitate in talking to them as if they were the children.

Shaking the thoughts from his mind for the moment, Dumbledore tuned back into the meeting just in time to hear Minerva say the words he was expecting to hear.

"Albus, I am afraid we may have a problem with Harry Potter; one that must be addressed as soon as possible." Her statement received several murmurs of agreement from the other teachers that had taught the boy that day, even Snape- much to the old wizard's surprise.

It also, however, got several confused looks from the ones that had not yet met the boy. With a small frown on her face Professor Sinistra spoke, "What is wrong with the boy? From what I have seen, he seems normal enough, if a little quiet. While his Sorting may have been a little…odd, I see no reason for concern."

It was Snape that answered, and in a rather emotionless tone that shocked those that had heard his thoughts on the boy leading up to the start of the year, "He is too advanced for a first year, possibly even for a second year. He was able to answer questions that are from the 4th- and bordering on 5th- year curriculum without batting an eye. Also, from what I have observed in the lesson I taught, his potion brewing skills are excellent and far above what they should be for his age."

His words were received with a narrowing of the eyes from Minerva, who sent the younger man a frown across the table. "And what were you doing asking a 1st year 5th year questions Severus?" she asked coldly.

Snape didn't even bat an eye at the question, though he did return the scowl. "I started off with simple questions, but when he had no trouble I tried harder ones in an attempt to trip him up. The boy was able to tell me the process involved in shortening the brewing time of the Wolfsbane Potion without a second between my asking and his answer, as well as a detailed explanation of how the different methods effect the Potion itself."

It was here that Filius decided to interject into the conversation, before Severus and Minerva could start their usual bantering.

"It was the same when I had him for Charms. He did the spell on the first try, along with all the others I asked him to demonstrate throughout the lesson. I have never seen a student take to magic so quickly; it is truly amazing! However, I do also have concerns that my and everyone else's ability to teach him effectively is impaired by the fact none of us are very familiar with the use of a grimoire instead of wands. While I can discuss magical theory and the Arithmancy behind all the spells I teach, there is only so much I can do to help him." He watched as Minerva gave a small sigh, before nodding her own head in reluctant agreement.

"Again, the same in my own lesson. He was even explaining advanced material to another student as they arrived and was able to recognise me while in my cat form. He was able to turn his matchstick into a needle on the first try without effort, and several times after when I asked him to do it in front of me. The boy is just…too good," McGonagall admitted.

Popping another lemon drop into his mouth, Albus hummed in thought as he listened to their words confirming what he already knew.

It seemed something would need to be done about Harry Potter, and soon. If he grew too bored and tried to teach himself, he could do something dangerous in an attempt to find a challenge. Albus himself still had a scar on his left arm from when he had done that very thing in his youth, trying to find something that interested him enough to relieve the boredom.

Additionally, Harry was a Peverell, a family notorious for both their brains and lack of empathy when it came to finding ways to keep their minds active.

Who knew what someone like Harry Peverell would get up to if left to his own devises?

XXX

As Harry led the way towards his room with Fred and George following behind him, he soon came to a very simple conclusion based off of the stories the two were telling him about some of their past pranks. It was something he had picked up on while listening to them talk, the detail that went into some of their pranks, and something he doubted many- if any- of the Professors had realised.

They were a lot smarter then they pretended to be.

Not on his level, of course, but they were geniuses in their own right. Just listening to some of the potions or spells they used told him they had knowledge at least two years above their own, and they understood everything on a level that impressed him. Though it wasn't consistent and there were a few holes in their knowledge, there was more to the twins than they let people see.

By their second year the two were brewing 'joke' potions that he had read about in his Grade 4 Potion book, and the oddest part was Harry wasn't sure they even realised that they had studied ahead. They seemed to have no motivation to achieve academically and had loudly said how boring they found lessons, yet when it came a prank, he could see actual fire in their eyes.

It made him wonder what they would be able to do with an actual potions lab, as well as ingredients on hand that they didn't need to steal from Snape's cupboards.

In a way, it was a glimpse into what he could have been. They were like him, if to a lesser degree. Bored with school and the lack of a challenge in life, they had turned to pranks as a way to relieve the boredom. They had found their reason to learn while Harry simply carried on learning in the hope of finding something interesting that would last.

In some way, Harry envied them. However, at the same time he had a feeling that he would actually be able to get along with the two. Based on the nudge in his mind, Poe seemed to agree with him. Though that was probably because the two had complimented her before; he had learned that his familiar had a bit of a vain side to her.

"So where exactly did Dumbledore end up putting you anyway?" Fred asked.

"Yeah! After the sorting, no one knows where you sleep," George added.

Without pausing in his step or turning to look at the two, Harry carried on to his room without taking his shortcut. While he liked the two, he wasn't ready to show all his cards before knowing more about them.

"A tower in the North-West of the castle. I'm staying in an old classroom that isn't used anymore until they can set up or find me a common room," Harry replied. "Though no one seems to be in any rush to do so since I am the only one in my House."

"Cool-" said George. Fred added, "That means no one to snitch on you if you decide to set something up in the night."

Before Harry could think of a response to that, they arrived at the door to his room. Quickly unlocking the door, he motioned for the twins to go in before following them and closing it behind him again. He watched with his back to the wall as the twins looked around for a moment, before their eyes moved to the large trunk placed at the end of his bed.

"Is that what I think it is Fred?"

"I think it is George," said Fred.

They both moved to inspect the trunk more closely, wands in hand and talking back and forth constantly.

"A high quality, Class 5 with seven separate compartments," started Fred. "All fit into the one space, expanded, and possibly customised rooms in each separate compartment."

"Separate keys for each compartment," said George as he picked his wand at one of the locks.

"Spelled so that only the owner or a House Elf can move it, and only under set circumstances." Fred was currently examining the lid and handles on the sides.

"Fire Resistance Charm, Water Resistant Charm, Blunt Impact Cushioning Charm-" started George.

"-don't forget the Banshee Scream Alarm Charm cast on each lock and the lid," interupted Fred.

"Of course, there also seems to be a Stunning Rune carved into the handles so that if anyone not allowed tries to take it they will be knocked out."

"Indeed. Then there is the Strengthening Charm applied to the wood itself, which seems to have been treated to be magic resistant on the outside?"

"Yes." George explained, "I recognised from the colouring that the wood was soaked in the potion."

Turning back to face him with smirks on their faces, the twins stood back up and stepped away from the trunk.

"I must say Harry, you know how to travel in style," Fred said.

"Of course, we could probably break through the protections in about…a year at most. Our older brother Bill is a Curse Breaker," explained George with a proud expression on his face.

"He taught us a few things," Fred added.

"-Not that he realised that at the time, of course."

Harry couldn't help it, and soon found himself smirking along with the twins as Poe flew over and landed on her perch beside the trunk.

He was starting to like these two; they definitely weren't boring.

XXX

The rest of the week went by slowly for Harry; classes were getting more and more boring by the day.

Defence Against the Dark Arts had been a major disappointment; Professor Quirrell was worse than Binns. Not only did he only parrot what the book said, he did it with a stutter that made it almost impossible to understand him. He reeked of garlic and jumped if a chair squeaked too loudly, something that several students seemed to have noticed. Many took great joy in shifting in various ways to insure there was always a sound.

On top of all that, there was something… _off_ about the man. Harry couldn't put his finger on it, but then again he never really saw the point in trying to understand people. All he knew was that he didn't like Quirrell, and that was all he needed to know.

The only relief he had from the boredom of school was when he practiced alone, or when the Twins came to "talk" (plot) and even showed him some potions he hadn't found in his books. It was an odd experience, people actually being able to teach him something that he didn't already know. But having said that, learning how to make a potion that made a person's bones and teeth glow neon green strong enough to show through the skin while in the dark wasn't really all that useful, even if it was fascinating.

For the most part, he left the two to their own devises, giving them free rein of his lab and supplies while acting as a soundboard when they wanted a different opinion. It was the last arrangement that saw the entire staff table having their hair turn pink instead of just Snape, after he pointed out that to single the man out was not a prank, but a cruel joke at his expense.

They had thought over his point for over an hour before finally agreeing with him, though they did not look happy about it. Then again, it had more to do with thinking back on their previous pranks where they had singled people or houses out. Realising that Harry was right had been an eye opener for them about some of the things they had done.

He had also somehow set himself up in his classes as the person everyone came to for help when they didn't understand anything, something that he blamed Hermione for. It cut into his reading time when he got bored in lessons. Now instead of keeping his mind active by learning something, he was forced to help other people instead.

It was very annoying because it also seemed to give people the impression he cared what they did in their spare time and would try to talk to him. At least he still had his backup plan of telling people to 'Fuck off!' which still seemed to work like it normally did- on most people at least.

It did seem to have the advantage of people not staring at him all the time, the novelty had apparently worn off by Thursday. Some people still stared, but they were more subtle about it now and had actually turned away when he caught them.

Friday night at dinner, McGonagall came up to him and told him he had a meeting with Dumbledore the next morning at 10am in his office. So here he was, after leaving the twins under the ever watchful eye of Poe while they were experimenting, slowly making his way towards Dumbledore's office.

He arrived five minutes early and stared down the stone gargoyle as he tried to figure out how it worked. He soon conceded defeat and finally gave it the password to make his way up the stairs. Without bothering to knock on the door at the top, Harry walked in and frowned slightly at the sight he was met with.

Harry's eyes quickly took in the sight of not only Dumbledore sitting behind his desk, but all of his current professors standing waiting for him.

Walking into the room cautiously as he looked each adult in the eye, Harry stopped in front of the desk before locking his eyes on the Headmaster.

"Whatever you're going to blame me for, I didn't do it, and even if I did, you have no proof of it. If this is an intervention, you're all a bunch of tools and I will set at least one of you on fire. I'm looking at you Quirrell," He said in his usual tone before glancing at Quirrell.

The fact that several people in the room looked like they believed him was almost enough to put a smile on his face, and Quirrell actually jumped and moved to the other side of the room to put more distance between them. There were few things more satisfying than making adults feel ill at ease, especially when it was him doing it.

However, his attention was quickly drawn back to Dumbledore when the elderly wizard cleared his throat and leaned forwards over his desk.

"Mr. Potter, as I am sure you have noticed by now, you are not suited to the 1st year curriculum-" started Dumbledore before Harry interrupted him. Harry had heard this speech many times over the years, and even though everyone phrased it differently, it all boiled down to the same thing.

"You're moving me ahead I take it? Can't say I am sorry about that."

Dumbledore gave a small knowing smile before nodding his head.

"I am sure you will have more than a few questions, Harry, and I ask for your patience while I attempt to give them to you. So please try not to interrupt," Dumbledore requested with a pointed look at the end.

He waited for Harry to give a small nod before continuing.

"Good. There are a few things we will need to address before anything can be finalised. First of all, and I need you to be honest with me Harry, how far along are you?" Harry noticed that the other professors seemed to lean in slightly to hear his answer.

"For the most part, academically I'm working at a 3rd year level in most of my subjects, having memorised the books. Practically, it's more varied since I haven't been able to practice spell work before arriving at Hogwarts," explained Harry absently. "If it involves a spell I am most likely at a 2nd year level, but in Potions I am already at the beginning of 4th year having practiced before coming. I am also at a 4th year level in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, both theoretical and practical." Already bored with the conversation, he opened his Grimoire and started flipping pages without actually looking for anything.

While he hid it well, Harry could see the surprise on Dumbledore's face out of the corer of his eye. Clearly, the man had not been expecting him to be so far studying alone, but he was able to recover quickly, "I see…you have been busy, Harry, busier than I or any of the other Professors realised. How long will it take you to become at least 3rd year level all round, would you say?" asked Dumbledore carefully now, his voice slightly guarded.

Harry did some quick calculations in his head, frowning slightly as he closed his Grimoire again before looking back to Dumbledore, "If I put aside everything else while doing it…3 months, but that's only because classes will slow me down."

"And if you were not required to go to every class while you bring yourself up to speed?" asked Dumbledore.

Harry took another moment before answering, "1 and a half months, give or take a week. But it depends on how many I will be allowed to skip."

Nodding to himself, Dumbledore took a piece of parchment and quickly made a few notes before turning his attention back to Harry.

"I am willing to excuse you from all but Potions, Transfiguration, and Charms while you bring yourself to a well-rounded 3rd year level. I am aware that you are ahead in these three still, but until you are ready I would have you acting as a teaching assistant for the others in your year." Dumbledore explained, "I am not comfortable completely separating you from your peers while you bring yourself up to speed, and- believe me- this will be an… acceptable compromise."

While not liking the idea of having to help a bunch of kids, even if they were the same age as him, Harry gave a small nod that made the old man smile while he popped a lemon drop into his mouth.

XXX

By the time Harry returned to his room, he realised it had only been a week and they already wanted to move him ahead two years… not that he was complaining. The first two years were really only theoretical with a few spells thrown in, and Harry was able to breeze through it with ease. The thing was, in Muggle education it took weeks- if not months- before he was even considered for skipping years.

Rubbing his head in an attempt to ease his growing headache, Harry walked into his room and made straight for his trunk. Knowing the twins were still inside from the mental nudge he was given by Poe, Harry kicked the side of it three times to let them know he was there.

This was a system they had worked out a few days ago after the twins had walked in on him brewing a potion, and his surprise had led to it blowing up in his face, much to the older boy's amusement and Harry's annoyance. He had given them a spare key for the Potions Lab, but nothing else. He had had a spare made for each of the compartments that he kept in the storage compartment.

In some ways, Harry wondered if this was what having friends was like. He enjoyed having the twins around, they were good for a laugh and when it came to certain subjects they were able to keep up with him better than most. They weren't put off by his intellect or attitude, and had actually promised that they would pay him back for the ingredients they used when they had the money; they were even keeping a detailed list of everything they used. This meant that they weren't just using him for his resources, like he had first suspected.

Before he could think any more about it, the trunk was thrown open to reveal the grinning face of Fred. Some of his face was covered in blue powder and his hair was blown back, leading Harry to the conclusion that there had been an accident. Not an uncommon occurrence when the twins were experimenting with new ideas; they did have a tendency to get a little carried away.

"Harry, my man! Just in time!" greeted Fred.

Motioning for him to follow, Fred disappeared back inside the trunk and Harry jumped down after him, foregoing the stairs altogether. He was then dragged to a desk with a cauldron full of bubbling blue potion that smelled like peppermint. George was standing next to it slowly pouring some into small round molds. There was also a bowl full of bite sized blue balls that looked like sweets, and they had the same smell as the potion.

Raising an eyebrow as he looked from the grinning twins, the potion, and the sweets, Harry spoke as Poe landed on his shoulder, "I see you've been busy. What are they?" with a nod towards the bowl.

He watched as Fred leaned over and picked up one of the sweets, holding it up in front of his face before both boys started talking in their usual way.

"These, my young friend-" started Fred.

"-are what is going to allow us to start paying you back for your kindness."

"You see, for some time now my dear brother and I have been planning to start our own Joke shop," explained Fred.

"-But we weren't going to be able to start for another couple of years on account of needing to save up for supplies."

"But with your generous offer of letting us use yours-"

"-it has pushed our plans forward by years!" finished George.

This was not news to Harry; the two had already told him their long term plan for the future.

"This little blue sweet is our first original invention," said Fred before opening his mouth wide and dropping the sweet into it. "Observe."

Harry waited for something to happen, and after ten seconds of Fred rolling the sweet around in his mouth something did. With a very loud burp, blue bubbles shot out of the teen's mouth, drifting around the room for a moment before popping with the smell of peppermint.

While this was happening, George took over explaining for his brother.

"We call them Bubble Burping Breath Fresheners; they also clean your teeth! A little fun and productive at the same time!" There was a large grin on his face as Fred continued to burp out bubbles. It stopped after a full ten seconds, but the smell of peppermint was now strong in the air. When Fred smiled at him, Harry saw that his teeth were indeed clean and white.

Walking over to the bowl, Harry picked up one of the sweets and held it in front of his face as he examined it.

"I would question the sanity of the minds that came up with such an odd thing, but I already know that yours are questionable at best," he said before putting the sweet back into the bowl, "There are always weirder things in the wizarding world, I suppose."

"Thank you," the twins said simultaneously, grins still firmly in place.

Shaking his head at their antics, Harry put the sweet back in the pile before turning his attention to the still bubbling potion.

"Have you thought about different colours and flavours, and selling them as a mixed bag or something? In the muggle world, products are made to be varied so companies can sell more of them." Harry explained, "They change the recipe slightly every few years and market it as a different product."

The twins both got thoughtful expressions on their faces as the twins continued to brew the potion and pour it into the molds. The conversation moved to the differences between the muggle and wizarding market and how they could use it to their advantage.

It wasn't until about an hour later that Fred turned to Harry and asked, "So what did Old Beard-face want with you anyway?"

Shrugging as he looked over the recipe of the twin's invention for ways to change the taste and colour, Harry turned to look at them over his shoulder, "Oh, it seems I'm being moved ahead a few years. As soon as I even out my knowledge base and take some tests to prove it, I'm being skipped to 3rd year," he explained absently before turning back to the recipe and making a note on a spare piece of paper.

He started counting in his head, and just before he could get to ten both boys gave a loud shout of,

"WHAT!?"

XXX

 **Ok so like I said not a lot if anything really different. And again the next chapter will more or less probably be the same with the troll. But after that we get to the new stuff you have all been waiting for!**

 **I will however warn you that I might not have much time to write over the weekend so the next chapter might not be until Monday or even Tuesday.**

 **Anyway let me know what you thought of the chapter (even though it is basically no different then before.)**

 **:)**


	7. Trolls Can't Run Indoors

**Ok, so here it is. The last chapter before we get into the completely new stuff. Again I will warn you that it is not that different.**

 **I liked the chapter enough that I simple didn't see the point in trying to write it out differently when it would just be the same anyway.**

 **Enjoy :)**

XXX

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing :(

XXX

 **Beta:** alexis. metoyer. 1

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Chapter 7- Trolls Can't Run Indoors

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The month leading up to Halloween was very busy for Harry, especially between catching up his practical skills with his theoretical knowledge, acting as a teaching assistant in Potions, Charms and Transfiguration, and making sure the Twins didn't blow themselves up along with his Potions Lab. That was how Harry liked it. Since he was busy all the time, his mind had little chance to be bored even if helping the other first years wasn't exciting.

He wasn't able to keep himself completely focused on catching up, but about 70% of his time was put into it. This was good for Harry because he would normally have gotten bored with it by now and started a few different subjects.

The news that he was being moved ahead had spread around the school within a day of the decision being made, a fact Harry strongly suspected the portraits for. It was met with many different reactions, some better than others.

For the most part, the other first years seemed to be amazed, with exceptions such as Malfoy, who seemed to find it insulting that he wasn't being moved ahead, too. Fifth through seventh years were largely indifferent to it, having more things to worry about with exams and such. It was the second through fourth years that mostly didn't seem to take the news well, especially those in Ravenclaw.

Already, Harry would see them bringing books and notes to read while eating in the Great Hall, sending him glances when they thought he wasn't looking. It had apparently been a long time since someone was given the chance to skip a year- let alone two- and they didn't like the fact it wasn't any of them. They were trying to compete with him, something Harry found even more annoying than having to help the other first years.

Fred and George had taken his advice and held off on taking their sweets to Honeydukes to sell, and instead decided to perfect the recipe while testing it on themselves. Harry had asked them why they didn't test it on other people, and the two had been very adamant that they wouldn't want to risk it when they could simply do it themselves.

While he didn't understand the sentiment, exactly, he respected their work ethic if nothing else. If it was up to Harry, he would probably just hand them out randomly and anyone stupid enough to eat them without question would then be watched for unexpected side effects. It would be their own fault while working as a test run at the same time. They did admit that when they had more saved up they planned on offering people money to be lab rats, but not until they could offer what they thought was a fair price for the risk involved.

The twins had also decided to try and invent several other sweets to sell to the local shop in the village, taking Harry's advice about not rushing and building up their funds and products. The current plan was to invent a few non-joke products to sell and save up the money earned from those, first. When they had enough funds, they would branch out into joke products. The long term goal was to open a shop in Diagon Alley, and if business was good, they would open a branch shop in Hogsmead.

It didn't hurt that Harry had already expressed his willingness to invest in their future business- both with money and producing future inventions. He knew a good business opportunity when he saw one, and while he wasn't desperate for money, he would be a fool not to try and add to his family's fortune.

Harry was also able to keep Hermione and Neville at arm's length, despite the bushy haired girl's insistence on trying to get to know him. Neville seemed happy to have someone that helped him when he needed it and to talk Herbology with, but Hermione was constantly trying to push. Most of the time Harry would ignore her, only answering questions that were relevant to the lesson he was helping in and walking away if she asked anything personal.

The reason why she seemed so determined to get to know him was beyond Harry; he was very aware that he was an arsehole to everyone- including her. But for some reason, this wasn't enough to get her to back off…or the twins, when he thought about it…or Neville…

Maybe he was slipping. It had been a long time since he had been around people his own age. Adults were so much easier to understand, a few comments to make them feel stupid and they left him alone.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, Harry refocused on the charms lesson he was assisting in as Flitwick explained how to cast the levitation charm. It was a decent spell to know, if simplistic. Point your wand, and the object would follow where it pointed.

While he didn't use a wand, Harry had taken the time to familiarise himself with the methods on how to use one, just in case he ever decided to get one if his Grimoire became too easy. Most people tended to do it the other way around and start with a wand before experimenting with different Magical Foci, but Harry wasn't most people and didn't care for doing things the normal way.

He sat at the front of the room, waiting to see if anyone would ask for his help.

Harry saw how many didn't get the wand movement right- and others that were pronouncing it wrong- with a shake of his head. If they had simply taken the time to read the spell and ask for clarification on how to pronounce it, this would be so much easier for them. He was also a little worried when he realised that most were already adding power to the spells.

If you just tried without practicing at all, it could have…explosive, consequences.

A prime example of this was a Gryffindor boy named Seamus, who had been getting a bit of a reputation for having his spells blow up in his face. He was still missing half his eyebrow after a failed attempt to turn water into rum at dinner the night before, much to the amusement of both Harry and everyone else that had seen it.

Finally, his attention was drawn to the sight of one of the feathers near the back of the room starting to float in the air, Hermione pointing her wand at it with a satisfied look on her face. Harry also didn't miss the sour faced expression of Ron Weasley sitting a few chairs away from her, but thought nothing of it.

It was about ten seconds later while Flitwick was praising Hermione for getting the spell right, when there was a loud bang and smoke filled the room. Already knowing where he needed to look, Harry's eyes landed on Seamus with his face covered in black soot and his hair pushed back from the explosion.

The feather he had been trying to levitate slowly floated back to the table, burning away seconds after landing.

XXX

Harry never liked Halloween, even before learning it was the night his parents were killed and he was sent to live with the Dursleys. To him, the holiday had been corrupted- like Christmas- and turned into something people used for profit. What did sweets and dressing up have to do with the original purpose of the holiday? Nothing, that's what.

He had actually had higher hopes for the Wizarding World, but that was forgotten the moment he walked into the Great Hall for the Halloween feast and saw the carved pumpkins floating around with candles in their mouths. The feast itself was filled with overly sweet food, and the pudding was nothing but a sea of sugar and chocolate.

Harry could only shake his head with a frown on his face, the happy chatter of the other students grating on his nerves like sandpaper. He was ready to call it a night and head back up to his room then and there- maybe get a few more hours of studying in before sleeping- when the doors to the Great Hall were thrown open with a loud bang.

"TROLL! IN THE DUNGEON! TROOOOLL IN THE DUNGEON!"

In ran a hysterical Quirrell, eyes wide with fear and arms flailing about. The nervous professor came to a stop in the middle of the room and took three deep breaths before turning his attention to the staff table.

"Thought you ought to know…" he said in a much quieter voice. He then fell flat on his face, fainting on the spot.

It was almost exactly five seconds later that the hall broke into complete chaos, students screaming and jumping to their feet, food forgotten. Harry watched on impassively as several professors attempted to call everyone into order with little success, the growing panic hindering their attempts.

Finally, after several minutes passed, Dumbledore stood and pointed his wand to his throat, magically increasing the volume of his voice, "SILENCE!" The effect was instant. All noise fell quiet as the headmaster pulled his wand away from his throat and spoke normally again.

"Everyone, please, do not panic. Prefects, please lead your House back to your dormitories. Teachers, you will follow me to the dungeons," Dumbledore said in a calm voice.

Harry wondered if Dumbledore had forgotten that the Slytherin dormitories were in the dungeon, or that there was no Prefect to lead him. When he saw that it didn't occur to anyone else, since the staff all marched out of the room in search of the troll, Harry decided not to worry about it. After getting up from the table, he stayed to the back of the crowd. He was in no hurry to get to his room or fight his way through the still-panicking students.

He hadn't even made it out of the hall before he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder, and he turned around to see a very pale Neville looking moments away from passing out.

"H-Hermione isn't here! Padma said she was in the girl's bathroom, crying. She doesn't know about the troll!" whispered Neville in a weak voice as his hands shook slightly.

Frowning and shrugging the boy's hand off, Harry stood in place and looked the boy up and down for a moment before saying, "Then tell one of the Prefects," in a matter-of-fact tone.

"I did, but they wouldn't listen to me! Harry, we need to go get her; what if the troll finds its way out of the dungeons?" Neville asked, getting more and more panicked by the second.

His face still set in a bored expression, Harry shrugged and made to turn and carry on his way.

"It's not my problem. If she is stupid enough to get in the way of the troll, then it's her own fault," he threw over his shoulder as he turned his back to the boy.

Harry was about to step away when his shoulder was once again grabbed and he was turned around forcibly. He had just enough time to register the furious expression on Neville's face before a fist came at him and knocked him over. Staring up at the usually meek boy with a hand over his soon-to-be black eye, Harry could only look on with a mixture of shock and confusion as Neville glared down at him.

"I've had enough of you and your bloody pig headedness! You think you're so much better than everyone else because you're smarter? because you understand things better? You're nothing but an arsehole! Hermione and I have been nothing but nice to you; we tried to get to know you, but you keep shoving us away. What did we ever do to you that would make you hate us so much, that you would leave Hermione out there with no idea of the danger? There is a bloody TROLL wandering around the castle and it could kill her!" ranted Neville, his face red with rage and his breath coming in pants. His hands were still shaking at his sides, but now it was in restrained anger instead of nervousness, and he had tears running down his face.

Harry wasn't sure if it was the pain in his eye, the expression on his face, or simply the fact that Neville had just punched him, but he found himself taking in each word. In some ways they were more painful than the black eye, and for the first time in many years Harry felt shame for something he had said or done.

Letting out a sigh, Harry slowly got to his feet, his right eye closed and already turning black. "Which bathroom, I don't want to go running in one direction only to find it's the wrong one," he said without looking at Neville.

His words seemed to throw the boy for a moment, but Neville quickly recovered and gave a sharp nod. "Ground floor, west bathroom. It's right next to the entrance to the dungeon."

Nodding, Harry quickly ran from the now empty Great Hall, Neville trailing at his ankles the whole way.

"AAAHHH!"

They had just arrived to the corridor with the bathroom when the scream reached them. Harry's eyes widened slightly before they narrowed quickly, and he ran even faster to reach the broken down door at the end. He was able to see the large form of the troll through the door, but it blocked out everything else and Harry quickly shouted over his shoulder to Neville, "I'll lead it away, you get Hermione and find the professors!" he ordered.

Without waiting for a reply, Harry burst into the room. He quickly took in the terrified form of Hermione crouching under a sink with the troll raising a club to crush her.

The troll stood at least 10 feet tall, with dull blue-grey skin and beady, black eyes. Its arms and legs were thick as tree trunks and came from a fat body with a potbelly, which was barely covered by the crudely made vest and loin cloth it wore as clothes. Its head was also very small compared to the rest of its body, the ears on either side almost as large as the head itself.

In the span of two seconds Harry went through every spell he currently knew, realising that he had nothing that would be able to stop the giant magical creature. He did, however, know a few that would get its attention away from Hermione and onto him.

Opening his grimoire, Harry started desperately flipping through the pages as fast as he could while trying to keep an eye on the troll before realising that he was taking too long. In a desperate, stupid move, Harry slammed the book closed and threw it at the troll's head, the chain growing longer to allow the move.

The heavy book found its mark and bounced off of the troll's head with a dull thud, not doing any actual damage, but still getting its attention. It turned to face him for a moment, but it decided that Hermione was more interesting and turned back to her.

However, it had given Harry time to pull his grimoire back to him and find the page he had been looking for.

Pointing his chain covered arm at the troll's arse, Harry put as much power into the Stinging Hex as he could before letting it go. The result jarred his arm and sent a football sized red curse flying at the creature.

The moment the hex hit, the troll let out a loud yell of pain and rage, dropping its club as its back arched slightly. The pain only lasted a moment, though- the magic resistant hide of the troll took the worst of the damage- and left the troll very angry as it turned to look down at Harry again with a glare.

Not that he could blame the creature, he did just hit it with an overpowered Stinging Hex in the arse.

The troll bent down and grabbed its club from the ground with its small angry eyes glaring at him and slime dripping from its mouth. Harry took a step back, and as if it was a silent signal, the troll released another yell and started charging at him. Harry didn't wait to see if Neville got to Hermione and simply turned around and started running as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

While clumsy and not very fast, the troll was able to catch up with Harry as he reached the end of the hall- most likely due to its larger stride. Harry was forced to jump around a corner to avoid the swing aimed at him, rolling back to his feet and looking over his shoulder just in time to see the troll run straight into the wall. It was then he realised that though the troll was faster than him, it couldn't navigate corners very well while running.

With this thought in mind, Harry started to run again, wanting as much distance as possible between himself and the giant creature before it got back up. It caught up to him once again, and Harry quickly changed direction and took a side corridor. The troll missed the turn and skid past, but soon was back screaming in frustration and swinging its club randomly.

This carried on for some time, Harry having no idea where he was going as he took random turns while trying to lose the troll. They left a clear path of destruction behind them, one that Harry knew would be enough to lead the professors to him once Neville found them. Taking another corner- he could actually feel the wind the club generated as it passed his head- Harry could only hope that they found him before the troll got a lucky hit.

Just as he was starting to get tired, Harry recognised the corridor he was running through, and quickly made a decision. He took another turn and soon came running into the Great Hall. He flattened himself against the wall to the left of the door, panting heavily, and hair sticking to his forehead with sweat.

A moment later the troll came barreling in, sending three of the house tables flying with a swing of its club before coming to a stop in the middle of the room. It looked around in confusion, trying to understand where Harry had gone, before slowly turning around and seeing him.

Harry wanted to move, but his body had apparently reached its limit. Instead of getting up, he slid down the wall slowly, sitting on the floor. Even with the troll's limited brain, it seemed to realise that Harry wasn't able to run anymore. It gave a roar of victory before slowly walking over to him, club dragging on the ground behind it and filling the air with a grinding noise.

However, before it got more than four steps a black shape came flying through the doors, heading straight for the troll's head.

"Caw!"

Harry was able to recognise Poe after a moment, his raven familiar clawing and pecking at the troll's eyes and face in an attempt to blind it. Unfortunately, the small bird was little more than an annoyance to the thick skinned creature, and she was unable to get a clear shot at its eyes once he started moving around and trying to knock her away.

"Bombarda!"

"Confringo!"

Two spells came from outside the door next to Harry, Poe flying away just in time to avoid them as they both slammed into the troll's chest. The first seemed to simply slam into it with the force of a car, pushing it slightly off balance and causing it to drop its club. There was a large bang as the tree sized weapon hit the ground heavily.

The second spell hit the same spot on its chest as the first a moment later, but was not able hit with enough force to knock the troll off its feet. It did cause a small explosion that set the troll's vest on fire. The heat obviously didn't bother it since it turned its attention to its new attackers with a snarl.

Harry watched in confusion as Fred and George came running into the Hall with serious expressions on their faces, wands pointed at the troll.

"Hey, Harry! Thought you could hog all the fun to yourself and leave us out did you?" said Fred with his back to Harry, not taking his eyes off the troll.

"Just as well Poe came and got us in time; you look like shit," George added.

Letting out a slightly wheezing laugh between his pants, Harry shifted slightly as Poe landed on his knee so he could send the twins a genuine smile. "Sorry about that; I didn't have time to get you. Neville was very insistent we find Hermione-,"Harry said between pants, "which we did, just as big-and-ugly over there found her."

Both teens nodded their understanding of what had happened, before moving to stand in between Harry and the troll once it got back to its feet.

"Fair enough, mate. Now just stay back-" said George.

"- and let the masters do their thing!"

Harry watched as the twins charged forward. They were casting spells constantly and moving around in such a way as to confuse the troll. They worked in a very impressive synchronization not unlike everything else they did, but now it had a dangerous edge to it. While one took time to power up a spell, the other would be peppering the troll with weaker ones to distract it. When it got too close, the twins showed a surprising amount of agility and would sometimes even flip out of the way. At one point, Fred had even used George's back as a springboard, flipping over the troll's head completely and hitting it with three spells before landing in a crouch behind it and rolling away to put distance between them. As he was doing that, George got its attention away from his brother with an overpowered blasting hex to its stomach that winded it..

Their movements reminded Harry of parkour, a muggle trend that he had seen before coming to Hogwarts.

Unfortunately, it soon became clear to Harry that despite the number of spells they sent at the troll, none of them seemed to create any lasting damage. Its skin was too thick, and their spells were simply not strong enough. It was as he realised this that Harry noticed the club still lying on the ground where it had dropped it before, forgotten by the troll which had resorted to swiping at the twins with its hands..

Opening his grimoire, Harry started flipping through pages as quickly as he could before stopping at the one he needed. He held his hand out to the club and shouted the spell loud enough to draw the twin's attention.

"Wingardium Leviosa!"

The chain glowed brightly with the amount of power needed to lift the club, but Harry didn't stop. He started flipping through pages again before stopping at another and calling out the second spell while still holding the club in the air.

"Flipendo!"

His chain glowed even brighter for a moment before the spell shot from his hand and hit the club, which suddenly became a cannonball.

The club flew across the room straight at the troll. Fred and George rolled out of the way at the last moment. The troll had enough time to turn and widen its eyes before the club smacked into its face; the sound of breaking bones filled the air. Harry let go of the spell and the club fell to the ground, the troll swaying for a moment before following it.

The marble floor splintered from the impact, and the troll shuddered before falling completely still.

For a moment after that, the only sound in the room came from Harry and the twin's heavy breathing. The two red heads slowly made their way over and sat on either side of him on the floor. He didn't really know what to say to them, so for a while the three simply sat with their wands and grimoire still pointing at the possibly dead troll- just in case.

After finally regaining his breath, Harry looked from one to the other with a small smirk on his face.

"I take it back; your sanity is not in question anymore. You two are both insane!" This got a bark of laughter from both boys, who seemed to relax a little more as Fred grabbed his shoulder and shook him slightly, "What does that make you? We came to save your sorry arse, remember? Nice shiner by the way."

Wincing slightly at the reminder, Harry shook his head and lightly banged it against the wall behind him. "Yeah, had some sense knocked into me. I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner, to be honest…"

They laughed again at that, before falling into a surprisingly comfortable silence.

Harry wasn't sure what to make of anything that had happened tonight. Between Neville punching him in the face, drawing a troll away from Hermione only to be saved by the twins and his familiar… he was both mentally and physically exhausted.

Why would Neville come to him for help? Why did the twins save him?

These were questions he couldn't answer.

Sure, he helped Neville in class from time to time, but he had never said a nice word to the guy and was a general arse. He was on better terms with Fred and George, but he had thought it was more a business arrangement then an actual friendship; he let them use his potions lab and they showed him a few tricks and promised to cut him in on their eventual profit.

However, as far as he knew, business associates didn't fight a troll for you...did Harry have actual friends? That seemed like the sort of thing he should have noticed sooner.

It was as these thoughts were going through his head that the professors finally arrived, Dumbledore in front with his wand pointed forward. McGonagall was only a step behind him while Neville and Hermione brought up the rear. They all froze at the sight of the seemingly dead troll laying in the middle of the Great Hall, having not noticed the three of them sitting on the floor next to the door.

Running over to the fallen troll with her wand never lowering an inch, McGonagall cast spells quickly before paling and shaking her head. All of the professors slowly put away their wands.

"What happened here? How did it even find its way to the Great Hall? If the students had still been here, this could have been a disaster!" McGonagall said in a slightly panicked voice at the thought.

Harry took offense, "Hey! I was sort of too busy running to think that far ahead; the bloody troll was pissed I hit it with a Stinging Hex in the arse and wouldn't leave me alone." Harry got a laugh from the twins at his comment about the Stinging Hex.

As one, the group turned to see the Harry and the twins, Poe still perched on his knee and giving a small caw at the attention.

"Mr. Potter! Misters Weasley!"

McGonagall ran over with her wand once again in hand and pointed at his black eye, but before she could heal it Harry waved her away with his usual bored expression- though it was somewhat ruined by the dark ring around his eye. "Leave it be. I didn't get it from the troll; I earned it anyway. I'll let it heal normally."

Looking a little confused, the Transfiguration professor turned her attention to the twins before frowning slightly and rubbing her head tiredly. "Do I even want to know why you two are here?" she asked before putting her wand away when told they had no injuries.

In response, both red heads grinned before both pointing at Poe. Said raven simply puffed up slightly as all eyes turned to her, and Harry couldn't help but think that there was smugness in her eyes.

Though that might have also been because of the bond they shared…he really needed to stop putting off researching about that. He just didn't seem to have the time between catching up his practical skills to his theoretical and building up his Occlumency Shields.

Shaking his head at his familiar, Harry used the wall to help himself get back on shaky legs. He really needed to get out and exercise more; running for his life from the troll had tired him out far too much.

By the time he was standing, Dumbledore was making his way over to them after checking on the troll himself. The twins were standing with him and grabbing an arm each to help hold him up. Maybe he should ask Fred and George to teach him some of those acrobatic moves they had used while fighting; it seemed interesting and useful.

"I think we need to have a few words in my office, all of you," said Dumbledore. His eyes moved over the three of them, before- to Harry's surprise- also scanning over Neville and Hermione.

XXX

It wasn't until three hours later, after each of them had been forced to recount what had happened from their own points of view several times, that the group was allowed to leave the Headmaster's office. Harry had been surprised at one point when Hermione attempted to take the blame and lied about going after the troll herself, but Harry had put a stop to that with a light glare at the girl and a few short words.

He didn't need someone else taking the blame for his actions, especially when her reasoning made no sense at all. Who would believe a first year teacher's pet would go looking for a troll after the students had been ordered back to their dorms anyway?

There was also the fact that Harry didn't regret what he did; it had been…fun, for one thing. It was also the closest he had gotten to a good deed in years, so there was a little pride in there too.

To say Fred and George were not happy to hear that their younger brother had been the reason Hermione was crying in a bathroom was an understatement, and Harry had a feeling they would be having a few words with him sooner rather than later.

They had been ordered to return to their rooms and had been given passes for being out of bed after hours by Dumbledore, but they were only good to get them back to their dorms.

Harry stayed near the back of the group as they walked the corridors, his sharp eyes moving from one to the other. Poe was perched on his shoulder, rubbing her head against the side of his every few seconds as if making sure he was still there.

He still wasn't sure what to think about them.

Were they his…friends?

He'd never had friends before, at least, not for long periods of time. When he was younger, he had made a few friends, but then he was moved ahead and lost touch with them. After that, he was always around older kids or adults; most of them hated his guts for being smarter than them. There was also the fact he was an arsehole, but Harry was sure it was mostly because he was smarter.

The fact was, he really didn't know how to connect to people around his own age- or any other age- anymore. His only real source of human contact with people outside of an academic situation was the Dursley's, and they were not the best people to emulate for obvious reasons. There had been a few teachers that had taken a little more time to get to know him, but he could never call them friends, or even close, really.

How was he supposed to know any of these things?

Maybe he should just ask Fred and George the next time they came to see him. At this point, they were two people on a very short list that he trusted. This was odd because he also knew for a fact that if they could get away with it, they would probably prank his hair pink and his skin green the second he dropped his guard around them.

Neville had shown a backbone he hadn't expected from the boy based on their interactions up until this point, going so far as to actually knock some sense into him. If nothing else, Harry found himself having a little respect for the usually meek kid- that punch had really hurt. He had a mean right hook that Harry would have to watch out for in the future.

He still wasn't sure what to think of Hermione though. She had tried to take the blame after all, even if it was unnecessary. When he first met her, she had been a pain in the arse and smug as hell, but she had also adapted to not being the smartest person in the room when he was around pretty well…wait a moment, was he actually thinking about still interacting with them in the future?

XXX

The next morning at breakfast, Harry was once again treated to the stares of almost everyone in the Great Hall. Word of what had happened that night seemed to have travelled fast. Personally, Harry blamed the paintings; he had a feeling that they were all gossips.

Like always, he was dressed in plain Muggle clothes with his red hat and Poe perched on his shoulder, but he also had a black umbrella in his hand since it was raining outside.

Ignoring the stares, Harry walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down between Neville and Hermione, the twins sitting across from them. Harry then pulled out a galleon and flipped it over to a very surprised Neville, who caught it.

"Congratulations, Neville," Harry said as he put some food on his plate. "You're hired!"

"H-hired?" asked Neville, a very confused expression on his face.

Harry did look up from his plate as he spoke, "Yep, I am officially hiring you to be my Conscience, since I recently came to the conclusion that I don't have one and it might be a good idea to change that. Basically, I want you to tell me if I am doing something morally wrong." He passed a piece of bacon to Poe before eating.

Neville could only blink in confusion. "Ok…" he said after a moment.

Harry nodded and looked straight at Neville before continuing.

"Good, I already have your first job. Hypothetically, is it morally wrong to remove the ward on the Great Hall that prevents the owls from shitting while delivering the mail, and to feed said post owls laxatives in the middle of the night?" asked Harry as he took a bite of his toast.

By this point, both the twins and Hermione were staring at him, and Neville was looking even more nervous than before. "Y-yes, Harry, it would be wrong…why do you ask?" Neville asked before catching the galleon Harry flipped to him again.

Harry then brought up the umbrella in his hands and opened it above his head, covering both himself and Poe before he gave a shrug.

"Huh…no reason."

Before anyone could comment on this, there was a screech as the owls started to stream into the Great Hall, followed by horrified screams as a sea of white and black shit rained down on both the students and professors.

Throughout it all, Harry continued to eat his breakfast under the safety of his umbrella, seemingly ignoring the chaos around him.

The twins were right, that had been…interesting.

XXX

 **So there it is, I am officially out of previous chapters to take from and the next will be a completely new chapter.**

 **Let me know what you thought of this one :)**


	8. Bad Dog!

**So at long last we get to the new chapters, thanks for being so patient with me…sort of anyway ;)**

 **I would like to remind people that I said once I caught up with the original I was going to hold off on updating until my Beta had caught up.**

 **Also I am glad so many people caught onto the flaw of Harry's Grimoire compared to using a wand, that being speed. With enough practice he would be able to use it without opening the book but he is not that advanced yet.**

 **He will be getting a wand eventually, just not right away. I am thinking at the end of first year. I have an idea for a chapter when Harry does get his own Wand that I want to do. However it might change my mind and have him get one over the Christmas break. We will see.**

 **Enjoy :)**

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 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing :(

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 **Beta:** alexis. metoyer. 1

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Chapter 8- Bad Dog!

XXX

By the end of the week Harry had finished catching up his practical knowledge with his theoretical, in no small part to Hermione forcing him to actually focus on his work instead of skimming something else when he got bored.

The bushy haired witch had been more than a little frustrated with him when she and Neville had found his room for a visit. They had walked in on Harry making notes on one of the twin's Potions. After that, Hermione had basically been looking over his shoulder constantly, so if he started to drift, she would keep bugging him until he finished. Harry's usual methods of ignoring and swearing seemed to have completely failed, much to his annoyance, and he had finally given in.

Neville and the twins had been less than helpful, mostly because they had spent the whole time laughing.

After joining the third year classes, Harry had taken two days to settle in before shooting to the top of all of them, including Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. Everyone but the twins currently hated his guts, much to his amusement. He had been surprised to find Fred in Ancient Runes and George in Arithmancy, and when he asked, they explained that they decided to 'split the workload', as they put it.

Harry was already bored by the end of the week and was slowly pulling ahead of the year again, though it was a lot slower than before since he still had to do the work for classes. He still outright refused to step foot in either History of Magic or Defence, so that gave him time to look into other things.

For one, Harry now understood enough about Runes and Arithmancy to start looking at some of the more simple magical objects he had bought at Diagon Ally, such as the 'Sneak-o-Scope' he was currently looking over. It was a simple, round metal ball about the size of a peach with holes all over it and a metal band around the outside.

According to both the person he had bought it from and the instructions it came with, a Sneak-a-Scope would start whistling and spinning if anyone that meant him harm came within a hundred feet of the owner.

After seeing Ollivander using a magic monical, Harry had also taken the time to buy several different kinds of glasses that had been altered to detect and examine magic. None were anywhere near as advanced as the one he had seen Ollivander using, but Harry had a feeling the old wand maker had more than enough skill to craft his own.

The glasses he was using at the moment- his own were on the desk next to him- had a green tint to them. As he held the Sneak-o-Scope in his hands, the glasses made the invisible runes carved into the casing and outer band eye light up a pale blue. While he looked the item over, Harry was making notes inside a notebook with his other hand.

He didn't even look up when the door to his room opened and Hermione and Neville walked in.

"I heard you skipped DADA again, Harry- _and_ History," Hermione started as she, moved to stand next to him while Neville sat on his trunk.

Harry gave a shrug but didn't look up, "It would be pointless to go. One is taught by a ghost in a loop that can't tell you the current year, and the other is taught by a man that can barely get two words out and parrots the books. My time is better spent on other things, and I thought it less rude to simply not show up then go and ignore them to their faces."

Hermione gave an annoyed huff before looking over his shoulder at the notes, already knowing it was a losing battle. "What are you doing this time?" she asked eventually after failing to understand his notes.

Harry stopped his inspection and switched to his normal glasses, holding the ball up to Hermione for her to see.

"I am trying to understand how this works so I can possibly improve the holes in the design. It's called a Sneak-o-Scope and is supposed to spin and whistle if someone with ill intent approaches the owner. However, they are notoriously unreliable. For such a simple and mass produced device, they have surprisingly advanced runes. The Negative Intent array alone is very interesting, and I am close to finding out why they are so buggy…" explained Harry before trailing off. His attention turned back to the device while his glasses were replaced again.

Before Hermione could comment, however, there was a loud BANG and Neville jumped off of Harry's trunk with a yelp.

A moment later, the lid was thrown open and the twins ran out with a trail of orange smoke following behind them. Unfortunately, the trail soon become a mushroom cloud, and Harry's room was quickly filled with smoke.

Harry had enough time to switch glasses again before following the others out of the room and slamming the door behind him. Fred pointed his wand at the closed door a moment later and cast a spell to stop the smoke from escaping.

Turning to look at the two red heads with a frown, Harry waited for a moment after they looked away before speaking in a flat tone, "What did you do this time, and how long until I can go back into my room?"

"We may have miscalculated slightly, and added a few extra grams of crushed pixie wings. The smoke should be cleared in an hour…or eight…" said Fred as he slowly started to back away.

"Anyway, we should really be off- homework to finish, pranks to set up, and all that...later!" shouted George before both turned and ran.

Starring at the spot the two had just fled, Harry blinked before taking out a galleon and turning to Neville.

"Neville, is it morally wrong to tamper with people's brooms, so that when they get to a certain height they stop working?"

Said boy gave a sigh, having gotten used to questions such as this since Harry had 'hired' him as his conscience. "Yes, Harry that is wrong," Neville said before catching the galleon tossed at him.

"What about bribing a house elf to shrink all of the twin's underwear and put hot sauce on their food?" Harry asked without missing a beat.

"Less wrong…"

Harry gave a nod before tossing him a second galleon and walking off, "Good enough."

Hermione and Neville shared a look before following him.

XXX

"Harry, where exactly are we going? We've been walking around randomly for an hour already. We should be studying, or something," Hermione said as she and Neville followed Harry up one of the many moving staircases. Harry had been moving in the same general direction the whole time, but they had been turned around more than once when the moving staircases moved with them still on.

Harry was idly flipping through his Grimoire without actually looking where he was going, relying on Poe on his shoulder to direct him. After his little fight with the troll, Harry had realised a disadvantage to using a grimoire over a wand that Ollivander had neglected to tell him, though Harry supposed it was something he was better learning for himself.

Compared to a wand, grimoires were very slow and not much good in a fight until you were experienced enough at using them, to do so without needing to find the spell. While they did give better control, the time it took to find a spell was impractical in battle, not to mention if he needed to cast different spells.

While knowing it was unlikely that he would be getting into a lot of life or death situations at school, Harry couldn't deny it could be a problem.

Moving the thoughts to the back of his mind for now, Harry gave a shrug and closed his Grimoire with a snap to finally see where they were going. He did this just in time to see the very dark and dusty corridor they had entered.

"Seeing as the twins have turned my room into a possible bio-hazard for the next few hours, and all my notes and books are in it, there isn't much I can do in the way of studying. So, I decided to go exploring," Harry absently said as he carried on down the hallway without hesitation. "I honestly forgot you two were here." He also ignored the annoyed huff from Hermione and the long-suffering sigh from Neville as he walked.

All of the doors they passed were open and showed nothing but very dusty and unused classrooms; some had chairs and desks stacked to the sides, but most were empty.

It was because of this that when he came to a door that was actually closed, it got his attention. Hermione's voice reached him, "Harry, I think this is the 3rd floor! It's forbidden!" she exclaimed in a loud whisper.

"Actually, it's only forbidden to those that don't want to die painfully," Harry said, and he once again started flipping through his grimoire when he found the door locked.

Hermione paused for a moment to look carefully at Harry with a mix of shock and sadness. "You want to die?" she asked quietly.

Blinking slowly, Harry looked up from his grimoire and turned to stare at Hermione as if she was an idiot. "Of course I don't want to bloody die. What kind of a stupid question is that?" further confusing her.

"B-but you just said-" Hermione started before Harry interrupted her.

"I only meant that if anyone asks, we can use the warning the Old Bearded One gave as a reason," Harry explained as he turned back to his Grimoire. "They can't prove anything against the claim without using either truth serums or Legilimency- both of which are illegal to use on minors outside of court."

Before Hermione had time to comment on this or ask what Legilimency was, Harry found the spell he wanted and held his hand out to the door. "Alohomora," He said calmly, the lock clicking loudly in the silence of the empty corridor.

He didn't even look up from his Grimoire as he pulled the door open and walked through the room; therefore not noticing that both Neville and Hermione had frozen where they stood when they saw what was on the other side.

"H-h-harry…" muttered Neville as Harry continued to walk into the room.

Hearing the fear in the boy's voice, Harry finally looked up. He blinked slowly when he came face to face…to face, to face… with a giant, three headed Rottweiler. It stood at least 20 feet tall, with coarse black fur and teeth the length of Harry's arms. All six of its red eyes were glaring down at Harry, and a trail of drool was falling from the left head's mouth.

For a full ten seconds nothing happened as the two- or was it four?- simply stared at each other. The giant dog started to growl deeper and deeper, and both Neville and Hermione were still frozen on the other side of the door. Despite the situation, Harry couldn't help but wonder how the dog had gotten into the room in the first place because the door was too small for even one of its heads to fit through, let alone the whole body.

At some unseen signal, the three heads came at him, all snarling and slobbering. Harry was too far into the room to try running back to the door for safety, so he did the only thing that came to his mind.

Waiting for the middle head to get within arm's reach of him, Harry took his grimoire and- much to the shock of everyone, including the dog- hit the middle head on the end of his nose before saying loudly and in a firm voice, "Bad dog! Sit!" The dog pulled back from the hit and gave a little whimper before snarling again. Harry didn't wait for it to try attacking again, "No! I. SAID. SIT. DOWN!" Harry shouted.

And to the shock of Hermione and Neville, it seemed to be working.

The giant three headed Rottweiler backed up slightly and all three heads gave a pitiful whine. It lowered slightly, but it still didn't sit. Harry actually walked closer to the Cerberus until he was stood right in front of it and pointed at the ground, "Now!"

And with a loud thud, it sat.

Harry then stepped even closer and started actually rubbing his hands on its chest. "Good…," he paused for a quick check under the dog before looking back, "-boy. Who's a good boy?" Harry said in the usual baby voice people used when talking to dogs. The Cerberus's tail started wagging at the attention and praise, slamming into the ground hard enough to shake the room slightly.

Harry then looked up and saw that there was an actual collar around the middle head's neck with the name 'Fluffy' on it. That got a slightly raised eyebrow before the giant dog flopped forward- very nearly crushing Harry as it did- and nuzzling Harry's body. Understanding what it wanted, Harry reached up and started ruffing the middle and right heads behind the ears before moving slightly to do the same with the left once it started whining.

For his trouble, Harry got his whole body covered in dog slime when all three heads licked him.

This carried on for a few minutes before Harry gave the heads one last rub each before walking back to the door. After promising to return and play later, Harry closed and locked the door behind him without even acknowledging his still stunned friends.

"Well, I guess reading all those dog training and behaviour books wasn't a waste of time after all," Harry said as he walked past.

XXX

It took seven hours for the smoke to clear from Harry's room…SEVEN HOURS!

Needless to say, Harry had already talked to a house elf about his plans for the twins, who had been more than happy to help him. Such odd little creatures, but they were nice enough and very handy to have around. He did have to bribe it by letting the little creature clean his potions lab.

It took an hour to clean up the mess the twins had made, and he would need to order replacements for a few things that were destroyed beyond repair. He didn't want to risk contaminating a potion by trying to fix anything with a spell; they were very sensitive to things like that.

On the other hand, they seemed to have succeeded in creating an orange flavoured Bubble Burp, as Harry called them for short. He took the time to pour the potion into the moulds and adding to the stockpile the twins had been building before getting rid of the ruined cauldron it had been in.

After a few tests, the three had discovered that the treats didn't expire as long as they were kept somewhere cool, which meant they could keep making them without worry of them going bad. Harry had a feeling that they would need a lot once the twins started selling them, so he was trying to think of a way to modernise the manufacturing process.

The only real problem Harry had found so far was that magic didn't agree with electricity. The best he could assume without specialised equipment was that whenever a witch or wizard used a spell- or even magic in general- it gave off a sort of weak EMP. Harry was looking for a replacement energy source that would be compatible in his spare time, but wasn't putting a lot of time into it. He needed more experience and knowledge about magic before actually going beyond theories.

Once that was done, Harry took the time to retrieve a basketball from his storage compartment to take to Fluffy later before returning to the Sneak-o-Scope that was still sitting on his desk.

Harry's current theory for why they were so unreliable was that the devise needed to have some kind of connection to the owner; that's why it would only go off when said owner was in danger. The runes he had found so far didn't take this into account, so the little wizard machine got confused. Honestly, it was a wonder the things worked at all, or that people ever bought them. He wasn't sure if the original creator was stupid, or just lazy, to start selling an unfinished product.

XXX

"So, you really don't care at all why a Cerberus is being kept in the school, locked in a room, and standing on a trapdoor?" Hermione asked for what must have been the 10th time in the last two days. Ever since they had found Fluffy, she had been bugging him about it.

They were currently sitting in the library, Hermione had a book on magical creatures in front of her opened to a page on Cerberus, while Harry was trying to concentrate on his Arithmancy homework. Professor Vector had been giving him extra and more advanced work to go through once he started to drift off in her class.

"Why would I care about something that has nothing to do with me? I barely care about things that do as it is. And his name is Fluffy; it said so on his tag," Harry said flatly without looking up from his work. She still didn't believe him about the name, convinced that no one would call a giant, three headed dog, _'Fluffy'_.

Hermione sent him a glare before pointing to something in the book, "It says here that Cerberus are almost always used to guard something, usually an entrance. But the question is, what is on the other side of the entrance that requires a Cerberus to guard it in the first place?"

Hermione was clearly frustrated; for his part, Neville was trying to keep her calm, though without much success, "Hermione, you need to calm down. I am sure the Headmaster has his reasons." This was said with a weak smile from Neville; there had definitely been an improvement in his confidence recently, even if it was only slight.

Hermione just gave a huff, folded her arms over her chest in anger, and leaned back into her seat. With an annoyed sigh, Harry finally looked up from his work and stared at Hermione with a slight glare. "If it bothers you so much, why not just talk to Hagrid? The man has a reputation around the school for his love of the more dangerous creatures of the wizarding world, and who else would have the gall to call a Cerberus, Fluffy? He is likely Hagrid's in the first place."

His words got a surprised look from Neville and a raised brow from Hermione.

"Yes, I was able to figure out more than you in five seconds of thought than you did in the last two days of obsessing over it. Get over it," Harry added when he saw the look on Hermione's face as she turned slightly red.

It took her another few minutes of constant badgering before Harry gave up on his work altogether and joined Hermione and Neville for their visit to Hagrid. Though Harry did have a standing invitation to come for tea since the start of the year, he never got around to using it. From the little information in the letter the man had sent him, Hagrid had been friends with his birth parents.

This was also the first time Harry had actually seen Hagrid's hut, which- while large, in general- still looked way too small for a man of Hagrid's stature. He just assumed it was larger on the inside like most wizard buildings seemed to be. There was also a section of the grounds next to the hut that had different vegetables growing on it, though the many crows that swarmed it seemed to care little for the scarecrow in the middle of the vegetables.

Poe gave a look of distain to the smaller birds from Harry's shoulder.

Hagrid himself was actually sitting outside the hut on a stool that looked way too small to support his weight. He appeared to be whittling something like a flute. Clearly, the man was struggling to work with the small knife since he had to use his thumb and forefinger to hold it, even though the flute he was making was sized to fit Hagrid himself.

Hearing them approach, Hagrid looked up from his work and gave them all a large grin, his eyes settling on Harry as he put the knife and half-finished flute on the ground.

"Well, hello you three! Good to see you, Harry! I hear you've been making a few waves since we last spoke," Hagrid greeted before pointing a joking finger at Harry.

"It's not my fault if the wizarding world is used to mediocre students. They should have been more prepared for someone like myself," answered Harry without care.

Hagrid just gave a hearty laugh, his smile getting larger. Despite his clearly limited intellect, Harry liked Hagrid; he was a very cheerful man who was more than happy with his lot in life despite it being considered so low by most people. There was also the fact that he was clearly not completely human, which Harry found very interesting.

Opening his grimoire, Harry quickly flipped through pages before stopping on the one he wanted, pointing his hand at the knife on the ground, "Engorge." The chain glowed softly, the knife slowly getting larger until it was a size more appropriate for Hagrid's hands. The effects would only last for a few hours, but it would be enough.

Hagrid reached down and picked up the knife and unfinished flute, looking the knife over before chipping at the flute a few times. Unlike before, it was done with a practiced ease and speed that was completely different with the smaller knife.

Humming to himself, Hagrid looked back to Harry and nodded, "Thanks for that. My usual knife is blunt and I don't have any wet stones left to sharpen it at the moment. So, what can I do for you three?"

Knowing that Hermione was planning on being subtle, Harry let out a sigh and spoke before she had a chance.

"What do you know about the Cerberus in the castle?" asked Harry flatly, ignoring the shocked and annoyed looks from Neville and Hermione respectively.

"Wh-ouch! Bloody hell," started Hagrid as he also looked up at Harry in shock, only to cut his thumb with the knife. Putting the knife and flute down again Hagrid quickly brought his thumb up to his mouth and sucked on it. Harry could only raise an eyebrow when a moment later Hagrid pulled out his thumb and the cut already showed signs of healing.

Neville and Hermione didn't seem to have noticed it, but Harry's eyes narrowed slightly as the giant man quickly put his hands into his pocket out of sight.

"Who told you about Fluffy?" Hagrid asked a moment later, his smile gone and eyes narrowed.

Harry sent Hermione a knowing look at the name, receiving a glare in return before he turned back to Hagrid, "I got bored and went exploring; found him on the third floor. Why was he locked in the room sitting on a trapdoor? I don't really care much, to be honest, but Hermione wouldn't leave me alone about it." Harry made sure to add in the last part at the end, getting an elbow to the ribs for the effort.

Despite the fact that most of his face was covered by hair, Harry could see what little of it that was visible going a little pale. "You shouldn't be asking questions about that; top secret, it is. Private business between Dumbledore and Nicholas Flammel…" said Hagrid, before pausing and getting a confused look on his face for a moment. "I shouldn't have told you that…no more questions. Don't ask any more questions." He turned his full attention back to his flute and waved them away.

As they moved to leave, Harry's eyes moved to Hagrid's injured thumb, only to see that the cut was completely healed without a mark.

XXX

It took Hermione- and therefore, Neville- two days of searching in the library for Nicholas Flammel before she gave up and came to Harry. He was in his storage compartment looking for something to fiddle with out of boredom when he had gotten a mental nudge from Poe. He had already finished his work with the Sneak-o-Scope and sent a letter to the person that invented them about what he found. Harry didn't actually give any details, but they had a meeting at The Leaky Cauldron over the Christmas holiday so he could work out a deal.

Letting out a sigh and questioning himself again why he bothered to have friends, Harry put the Dream Catcher he had been looking at back on the shelf before moving to the stairs. He came into his room to see Neville sitting on his bed and Hermione tapping her foot on the floor and waiting for him.

Without bothering to wait for her to ask the question, Harry walked over to his desk and turned the chair to face them before speaking, "Nicholas Flammel is a very famous Alchemist, whose most notable achievement is the creation of the Philosopher's Stone. The Stone is a very powerful artefact and can be used to create an elixir that gives the drinker a form of immortality. Flammel is currently over 600 years old." Harry's voice was flat and his face was set in a bored expression throughout the whole explanation.

Hermione let out a sigh before moving to sit next to Neville on Harry's bed, "How did you even find anything on him; we searched almost the entire Library!"

In reply, Harry opened one of the drawers on his desk and took something out before throwing it at Hermione without care. Her face went red in embarrassment a moment later when she realised she was holding a chocolate frog card. Although it didn't have an actual picture at the moment, the information was all there, along with Flammel's name.

"I really hate you sometimes, Harry," Hermione said without any actual venom in her voice, Neville chuckling uneasily next to her.

Harry for his part simply gave a shrug, "I know, it's a gift. So do you need me to also tell you that the thing the dog is guarding is most likely the Stone?"

XXX

Harry leaned against the wall as he threw the basketball high, watching as Fluffy's left head grabbed it. While the room was too small to throw it for the Cerberus to chase, he seemed more than happy to have Harry throwing it for one of the heads to catch.

Harry had made it a habit to come and visit the dog every few days and play, or even just to talk to him. Though he still wouldn't let Harry near the trapdoor, so long as he stayed around the edge of the room, the giant dog was always happy to see him.

Tail thumping loudly on the floor, the head leaned forward and dropped the now drool-covered ball at Harry's feet. The bottom of his jeans and shoes got splashed slightly, not that he cared. Bending down, Harry took the ball before throwing it towards the middle head this time.

Harry would admit he was curious about the possibility of the Philosopher's Stone, though he didn't care much to use it. He was more interested in how the stone would have been made, especially as it was the only one of its kind. He couldn't blame Flammel for keeping it a secret; the last thing anyone needed was a bunch of immortals running around turning everything into gold. The world's economy would have crashed and burned a long time ago, not to mention the sort of people that usually searched for ways to become immortal were not very desirable.

No, it was better the stone stay a secret from the world at large, but that didn't mean Harry still didn't want to study it.

Then there was the question of why the stone was in Hogwarts in the first place.

The Flammels were known for several things, and one of them was the fact that they lived on an island that could only be found if you were invited. Harry theorised it to be some kind of variant of the Fidelius Charm. But that was also the problem: Why move the stone from what many considered the most well defended place in the world? So well defended that it couldn't even be found? Why at a school?

There was clearly something going on that Harry was missing.

If it was simply Dumbledore's old friend letting him examine the Stone, it would be on said old wizard's person at all times, or at least somewhere he could get to without issue. There was also the fact that Dumbledore had drawn attention to the corridor the Stone was hidden in by saying it was forbidden to come to said corridor. That would automatically send up a flag for most kids to at least investigate.

So, the question was why hide the Stone somewhere less safe, in an unused part of the castle, only to basically draw a bull's-eye on it for everyone?

Unless…they weren't trying to hide it…

Harry's mind started running a hundred miles a second as he absently threw the ball to the right head.

That was it. They weren't trying to hide the Stone, they were using it as bait! This was a fishing trip; they were trying to catch someone in the act of trying to steal the Stone. Harry remembered something in the paper back at the start of the school year about someone breaking into Gringotts, but the vault they attacked had already been emptied. That had been the start of it.

The Stone had been moved somewhere still highly guarded to see if anyone would start sniffing around, and they had. Then they had clearly marked the area in Hogwarts that the Stone was being hidden, only to have a Cerberus guarding the trapdoor, so it didn't seem too easy. That meant that whoever was trying to steal the Stone was in the castle to begin with, but did Dumbledore actually know who it was? Or did he just need proof?

No, Dumbledore had a lot of political power in the wizarding world. If he wanted someone dosed with Veritaserum under suspicion, they would be. That meant he wasn't sure who was after the stone, just that they were in the castle. It could be a student, but Harry doubted it. Even 7th years would be hard pressed if coming face to face with a Cerberus, so it was more likely to be one of the professors.

That still didn't narrow it down much though. Hogwarts was considered one of the top magical schools in the world- despite having rather limited courses- for a reason. All of the teachers were masters of their craft…well, most anyway.

Harry had been informed on the Divination professor and had been less than impressed by what he had been told; he was unsure why the class was taught at all. Harry had taken the time one afternoon to look into Divination and found that while it was possible for people without the 'Sight' to use it, they needed spells and specialised equipment. None of which was taught, or even used in the lessons.

The woman clearly didn't know how to teach the subject.

Professor Binns had been a very prominent historian when alive, but since his death, he had been caught in a loop and the subject wasn't really considered important enough for anyone to notice.

Then there was Quirrell, a wizard that could barely get two words out of his mouth, who was so nervous he couldn't even hold his wand straight, and was supposed to teach Defence. Though Harry understood the less than ideal professor considering the subject's recent history of …accidents.

It was hard to argue when there had been a new professor for the subject every year for 40 years.

But even then, Quirrell had managed to get the job when he couldn't even speak the spells…how the hell could someone even use a wand if they had a stutter as pronounced as Quirrell's? Even the slighted slip in pronunciation could render a spell useless, or at least change the effects, so how was he able to use magic?

It hit Harry a moment later.

The sneaky bastard was faking it, making himself look too innocent and worthless to be even considered of any wrong doing. Harry was almost impressed, though the fact no one else seemed to figure this out when it was staring them all in the face was a little annoying.

So Quirrell was now Harry's number one suspect. Should he share his thoughts with Dumbledore?

Absently throwing the ball to Fluffy again, Harry shrugged his shoulders.

Maybe later; he was busy with schoolwork anyway.

XXX

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